


Things we never had to say

by Blindvogel, ScrawledScript



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, F/F, F/M, Loss and Pain, Maybe - Freeform, Rage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-06-01 15:27:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6525769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blindvogel/pseuds/Blindvogel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScrawledScript/pseuds/ScrawledScript
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which, Vex does not get up when Kashaw raises her. Instead, something else comes and fills the empty spot that is Vex's body.</p><p>Thanks to the wonderful BlindVogel on Tumblr for being awesome and taking my sad AUs in stride, making them even sadder as we go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Bard Opens

There once was a watery tomb,

Where our ranger met her unfortunate doom.

We tried to save her, of course,

But freed something much worse,

When a bride came back for her groom.

                                                           -A limerick Scanlan never had to write

 

**The Bard Opens**

 

The secret to telling a great story was not in the setup or descriptions, or in the characters or the plot, or in the struggle between life and death, because those were  _ obvious _ things a story needed. No, the secret to a great story was  _ pacing _ ; knowing when to take a breath, to emphasize a sentence, to let a statement linger. It was knowing when it was time to relieve the heavy moments with a laugh, to ruin the happy moments with a tragedy, when to deliver the punchline. Sometimes the punchline was great;  _ and so we were all flying cows and- _ and sometimes it was not so great.

She was there one second, and gone the next. That’s it. There’s nothing else.

Sometimes, worse than the punchline, is the follow up. Sometimes the punchline was closer to its namesake, and it rips the air from the mouth that tells it.

She was there one second, and gone the next. And then there  _ was _ something else.

 

The setup went something like this:

Have you ever fought a Beholder? No? Well, they’re awful. They’ve got more eyes than a suspicious girlfriend, and a temper to match. They are gooey, sticky, and they can  _ fly _ of their own volition. Just, poof, and they’re up flying, and getting them down is a  _ bitch _ . They have rows and rows of teeth, and one big gaping maw that could- and had- swallowed men whole. But it’s really not the teeth you have to worry about: it’s the fucking death beams that shoot out of every single one of its eyes- all of them, different colors and to different effects. It had killed Grog, before, though the goliath had just shrugged it off and charged back into the fight after a pep talk from Pike.

To date, this is the second one that they have encountered. That is probably two more than any other adventuring band could probably boast about meeting, though, so it was more impressive than it sounded. It was easy to say you’d seen some shit, but really who had seen some shit like the band who fought and killed  _ two _ beholders?

The first one had been a herald of Orcus- which, really that’s like double points for badassery- and really, really big and powerful. Chump change to Vox Machina, though. They had been at full force, then. The eight of them together were an indomitable force, balanced through years of practice and hundreds of battles.

The second one was a surprise.

They are all haggard from dragons, from sorrow, from travel. They are stupid with terror, grasping desperately at any chance to return their world to an ancient-dragon-free, no-fly zone. Apparently they were the only ones capable of doing much of anything, which makes sense to none of them, but they accept the burden with sagging shoulders and heavy hearts.

This blind hope and broken war path brings them to the second beholder. In Vasselheim. In an old temple. At the bottom of a fucking lake.

Every burst of magic and missed gunshot and bellowing roar of a raging goliath rocks the old stone- the only thing between them all and a watery grave- and there are several nervous glances up and to the side. Of course, once the beholder shows itself, all bets are off. They throw everything they can at it.

 

The characters are like this:

There is Scanlan, of course, the uncontested leader and the face of Vox Machina. Easily the most capable and handsome of their group- not counting his fiancé Pike- Scanlan was the backbone of the group. Without him, they would be utterly and completely lost. He knows this, but doesn’t feel the need to call attention to it. He’s humble like that.

There is Grog, gentleman and scholar that he is, who sees the world best at blade’s edge. He was a badass motherfucker, no two ways about it. But there was a melty center there, if one was patient enough and a tiny gnome named Pike.

There is Zahra, who is just as much a badass, and that’s really all you need to know about her. She has horns, if you care about that sort of thing. Oh, yeah, she killed a dragon once. If you needed proof that she was a badass, which you don’t.

There’s Kashaw, who’s human and wears robes. His was a sad love story, of heartbreak and one-sided love with Vox Machina’s rogue. Scanlan has tried to offer his advice, to offer a hand to soothe a hurt comrade, his comfort fell on deaf ears. He seemed to have many layers that might take more than a night’s watch to peel through, if the scars coating his arm were any judge.

Keyleth was pretty cool, though she couldn’t talk her way out of a wet paper bag with a script in her hands. Out of all of Vox Machina, she was the second most innocent person, but the one with the longest arrest record. And that was saying something, because they’re all criminals. Keyleth liked trees more than anything, except maybe baby animals.

There is Percy Fred…Fredrick Van Mossel.. Percival Fredrico Van Dam Koala bear… de Rolo the third. There were a fuck ton of names, and really does knowing them all make any difference to the story? No, of course not. Percy is a recently demon-free individual who had a penchant for all things incendiary. He spends more time locked in his workshop than anywhere else in the world.

There is Vax’ildan, or Vax to anyone who knew him for more than two seconds. Vax is, well, a mess at the moment. Skilled with light fingers and quick feet, Vax was their doorman- he unlocked doors, not answered them, just so you’re clear. He’s an overprotective twin with a self-deprecating and self-destructive streak, just clever and lucky enough to have not died yet, despite his best efforts. Arguably, he has the most to lose in this story.

 

And, lastly, there is Vex.

And then there isn’t.

 

The plot, well. Heroes and shit, they never end pretty, do they? It was a fact of life, really. You fight things for a living, one day something bigger and stronger was going to come along and take you out. Best thing was to never get into that gig in the first place, stick to performing. But it’s too late for all of that now. They’ve taken out two beholders, a dragon, and gods know what else in their time together. It’s hard to keep track of all the murder and mayhem and misfits in this line of work.

Anyways. The punchline to this story is not that she died, it’s not even  _ how _ she died. There is a saying that is meant to be a comfort, but no one was laughing- she died doing what she loved. Running after treasure and loot and shiny things. She was dragonish herself that way, Vex. Could convince her to do a lot for the right amount of coin, though it always seemed like she had a line. They just never found it, was all.

She had been helping Vax climb back out of some pit he’d fallen into or climbed into or something, and she heard that Percy was going open the tomb of the Champion Pervert. Worst bit about it was it was completely avoidable, if she hadn’t been so greedy. She could have just waited ten seconds, but it was widely believed that the reveal of the treasure was sometimes greater than the treasure itself.

So she runs, Percy pushes a stone, and she dies.

Just like that, without so much as a puff of exertion. Just a thud, and Percy’s strangled scream, and that was the end of her. Brave and smart, but mortal all the same. Blink and you miss her, and all of their eyes were closed. Vox Machina had killed many things, but killing each other was a new low for them.

That’s still not the punchline.

 

You want to know the punchline? It sucks, just so you’re warned. The punchline fucking sucks, and this is the worst story Scanlan ever told, but it was also the truest. And that’s why it sucked so much, because it  _ happened _ and it  _ hurt _ and nothing ever heals right after it’s been broken so wrong, and Scanlan was sure nothing had been broken worse in the history of, like, ever.

 

The punchline goes like this:

Kashaw is a cleric, and clerics possess a unique magic that allows them to bring back those who have recently died, and not like necromancers who usually brought back zombies or undead servants. Which works out great in most cases, because most clerics (at least the ones Vox Machina normally keeps on speed-scry) don’t serve fucking psychopaths. Except Kashaw  _ does _ serve a fucking psychopath, despite being relatively normal himself.

A brother holds his sister’s lifeless body, crying and begging  _ please don’t leave me here _ . He screams  _ you’re not allowed to do this to me _ , and everyone knows he had planned on being the first twin to die, be it soon or three hundred years down the road. No one was prepared for this.

Kashaw reminds everyone that he can Do This. He can Save Vex. He can Bring Her Back, and so of course Vox Machina demands it be done, this instant without delay, _what's taking so long_? Kashaw tries to warn them. He does, honestly, but everyone is so upset and emotional that his protests get buried in a sea of  _ JUST DO IT _ .

Scanlan can’t remember the exact details of what happened, he was so distracted waiting for Vex to rise up and laugh at them all for falling for her trick. But she is not Vax, and she wouldn’t do that. He thinks some of them make offerings, Percy and Zhara and Vax, but later he cannot describe what was given.

The punchline is, it wasn’t enough.

There is a brilliant, blinding light and deafening wind, and Scanlan thinks he hears Vex saying something- but it could have been anyone and he could have been hopeful. When the light fades, everyone is in much the same position as before, save for a few hands raised in protection of eyes. Vex’s eyes blink open, a small smile crept onto her face.

The twins are wrapped around one another, Vex holding her own in the hug. Vax is sobbing- hell, they all are- arms tight and unyielding for all that they were carefully poised to hold something delicate. She gets to her feet, brushing off the dirt, and grins.

“So what happened?” She asks, and no one thinks anything of it.

“You died. Kashaw…Kashaw brought you back.” Zhara says, scrubbing her face. They are too tear-blind to see that something is wrong.

“I guess I should say thank you, then.” Vex walked forward, and Scanlan knew when she stepped. That was Vex’s voice, but that wasn’t Vex moving her body. Everything was too slinky and calculated, and when she kissed Kash, the cleric realized it too, too little too late.

“Thank you, Kashaw.”

The cleric tripped backwards, landing squarely on his ass. Everyone but Scanlan and Kash start laughing. It is funny, after all. It is the light moment that lifts the weight of somberness off of them. The bard and the cleric make eye contact, just for a brief second, before Kashaw grabbed his spear and lunged forward.

There are several startled cries, but Vex just hit the spear and forced it to the side. She grips the shaft and pulls it to her, dragging Kash with it. When he is close enough, she grabs his shoulders and leans in to whisper something in his ear.

 

“ _ No _ .” Is the last word before  _ pop _ .

They are gone, Kashaw and Vex.

 

“The fuck just happened?” Vax demanded, sorrow burned into confusion into anger. This was when he was the most dangerous, when he was upset. Which, really, was most of the time, but it’s not like they aren’t all dangerous themselves.

 

“Vex never came back.” Percival chokes, and he sinks first to his knees, then continued forward until he was all but laying on the ground. He had figured it out, then. That something was off, that Vex was gone. That he had pushed the stone that killed her.

 

The punchline was that Vex was dead and gone and _someone was walking around in her body_.

 


	2. The Druid Assumes the Shape of Beasts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vox Machina looks to Keyleth to find Vex, only to find more bad news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one got a bit long. Whoopsie.

First and foremost, the Aramente was a learning expedition.

Take notes, there is in fact a test at the end. Several, actually.

Take notes, because you will live for eons and that’s a mighty long time.

Take notes, because the things you come to love will not.

No one ever mentioned how expensive an education could be.

-A lesson Keyleth never had to learn

**The Druid Assumes the Shape of Beasts**

 

 

Objectively, this wasn’t the first time one of them had died. It wasn’t even the worst death. Pike had been the worst, having literally been torn asunder by a demon. They had survived, however, and managed to save her, though she was different when she awoke, which was entirely understandable. Keyleth imagined dying was kind of unpleasant.

_ Subjectively _ , there must be things that are worse than death.

“No, she got up.” Grog bellowed, “She  _ got up _ .”

“The cleric said there were risks.” Kima said, her voice low and quiet. She was nursing an arm, bleeding from a cut above her eye. She wasn’t the only one who looked rough. They were hurt, exhausted, angry. And confused as  _ fuck _ .

Vax shook his head, “She wouldn’t just leave- she couldn’t, even if she wanted to. She doesn’t have that magic. Where did Kash take her?”

“ _ Kash _ doesn’t have that magic, either.” Zahra snapped, baring her teeth.

The two of them circled one another, looking awfully like they were going to come to blows. They were both missing a sibling, and neither of them understood why. And, to the detriment of both, when their blood ran hot, it was always easier to strike first, ask questions later. The air grew tense, and to make matters worse, Trinket moved to stand behind Vax, ready to attack.

Vax’s attention suddenly shifted and he stalked away from Zahara.

“Percival, grab that Vestige.” the rogue barked, “Keyleth. You have a spell that can scry for Vex, don’t you?”

Keyleth nodded, “Uh, right. Yes, I do. Have to do it from-“

“A body of water, I remember. That’s why we’re moving. C’mon, Trinket.” Vax patted the bear and started tugging on Vox Machina. He pulled Percival to his feet, started shoving Scanlan forward. He bent to pick up Vex’s bow and bag that had been pushed to the side for the resurrection ritual, slinging both things over his shoulder like they belonged there.

Keyleth watched Percival fight with the armor for a handful of seconds before giving up and hoisting the entire body up out of the tomb, giving the stone a swift kick that did his own foot more harm than anything. She can see his face, but has never been able to read him very well. They’re all upset, so she doesn’t think anything of the frown there. Were they in a better mood, Keyleth might have thought the sight of Percy carrying the Champion like he did a bit funny.

As it was, Keyleth was too busy worrying about what had happened to Vex, scared of what her scrying was going to reveal.

\---

She drops the lake behind them with a wave of her hand, the horrors below drowned with a dull splash. It had been a peaceful, frozen thing this morning. A tomb for people forgotten, now a grave for a loved one.

No, can’t think like that. Vex was fine.

“Scanlan, take my hand. Zahra, you too.” Keyleth goes to her knees and extends her arms out to either side. When they join her, she takes a deep breath and speaks her spell.

“What do we…?” Zahra’s voice drifted off as the magic started to form between them. It was an odd sensation, co-mingling magic. It was like part of your souls joined together, an unconscious bond that let thought and feeling flow through like water in a river.

“Just focus on Vex.”

To Keyleth, Vex is the only other person who has an appreciation for nature similar to her own. She was wild and free, like the wind in a storm. She thinks of Vex’s hands, calloused but softened with kindness, always extended ready to help. For a cost, but, always ready.

She feels Scanlan focus, his magic purple and strange. He respects Vex, thinks she’s cute. He thinks of her clever tongue and quick wit, her greed. A small blue twinge of sadness, at that. Scanlan’s thoughts shifts to Trinket, just for a moment, and Keyleth can feel his  _ regret _ \- he vows to make an apology if he gets the chance.

Zahra is another matter- the tiefling’s thoughts unfamiliar and alien- and so it takes a few seconds to orient herself. When she does, the image of Vex is clear: warrior, friend. There is one thought that takes Keyleth by surprise:  _ mother _ . It is not an undeserved word, just one Keyleth herself had never applied to Vex.

Once the image cements, the spell is cast. Keyleth opened her eyes and watched the lake. The surface shimmered for a second, little waves from where her magic focused, and then… nothing. She felt the spell dissipate, spent without return.

“Well?” Vax asked. The sun was starting to set now, and Vax stood stark against the reddening sky. A dark figure against a bloody backdrop, pacing new ruts in the softened earth.

Keyleth doesn’t speak for a moment, trying to phrase it properly. Not that there was any right way to explain. There were only a couple of reasons why a scry wouldn’t connect with the target. One; the target was warded against a scry, which Keyleth doubted. Two; who or whatever you were trying to scry was no longer on this plane. Given recent events, that might mean dead, or it might mean…something else.

God, it had to mean something else.

“Keyleth,  _ for the love of the gods _ , tell me where my sister is. Is she alright?” Vax has a way of begging and demanding at the same time that is very, very intimidating.

“I don’t know. I can’t…the  _ spell  _ couldn’t find her.”

“And what does that mean,  _ exactly _ ?”

“It means she’s gone.” Zahra supplied, not without pity.

“ _ Gone _ where? Is she-?” He swallows the rest of the question, unwilling to give voice to the worries. Keyleth watches him work through the lump in his throat as she tries to talk past her own.

“What about Kash? We could look for him.”  Zahra offered, “If they’re together, then…”

And so Keyleth closed her eyes and took their hands again. Kash, focus on Kash.

* * *

 

_ Grass between his fingers, crawling backwards, dirt in his nails. Daylight, must be somewhere far away. There’s a bruise forming on his wrist, maybe it was broken _ ,  _ but that seems to be the least of his worries. _

_ His eyes are wide and afraid, and the fear somehow makes him look young. He’s sweating, breathing heavy. He bumps against a large stone, realizes he’s trapped. _

_ “Now, that is  _ **_no_ ** _ way to say hello after all this time.” It is Vex’s voice, sure, but the tone is weird. It’s like she’s flirting, but Keyleth has never heard Vex flirt like  _ this.

_ “Get out of that body, and go to hell.” Kash spits, trying to bring himself to his feet. He keeps looking around wildly, probably searching for an escape route. Whatever is frightening him- _ God, whatever was using Vex’s voice- _ isn’t visible through the spell. It’s too far. _

_ “Which one? Want to come with me? It’ll be like a vacation. We have a lot of catching up to do, Kashaw.” _

_ Vex steps into view now,  _ and oh god her eyes,  _ smiling but it’s all wrong. She steps until she’s pressing Kash against the stone, and while he turns his head away, he makes no move to run. Vex’s fingers trace the skin on his neck, her fingernails somehow seeming very threatening, though Vex always kept them short. _

_ “No we don’t. Let her go, or I’ll-“ _

_ “Or you’ll what, love? Kill me? I mean, you’re welcome to try. But all you’ll do is kill this body.” Vex laughs, and it’s  _ awful.  _ Kashaw is equally disturbed by the sound. _

_ “You don’t have to pretend like you aren’t glad to see me. I heard you praying.” _

_ Kashaw’s brow furrows, confused and uncomfortable. _

_ “I have listened to your prayers all this time, Kashaw. I wanted to wait until you were ready. And now you are. I  _ **_heard_ ** _ you. You said, ‘please come back’ and so I did.” _

_ “That wasn’t for you and you know it, Vesh.” Kashaw found enough strength to remove himself from between Vex-  _ Oh fuck, Vesh- _ and the rock. She lets him take a few steps away, but keeps pace with his movement.  _ It made Keyleth sick to see that excitement on her face, like when Vex had found treasure.

_ “Well there was no one else there.” _

_ At this, Kashaw turns around. He gives Vex/Vesh- a critical once over, before asking, “What did you do with her?” _

_ Vex skips up next to Kashaw, reaching for his hand. The cleric tugs it away. _

_ “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you where she is, and anything else you want to know.  _ **_If_ ** _ , you stay with me. Don’t run, don’t fight. Just…stay with me, like you were always meant to.” _

_ “I’m  _ **_going_ ** _ to kill you.” Kash threatened- but even to Keyleth it sounds hollow and forced. He knows that what he’s suggesting is probably impossible. They are walking through grasslands, and Keyleth can see no identifying landmarks. _

_ Vex gives a shrug, “You can’t, dear. But if it means you’ll stay, I’ll pretend I’m frightened.” _

_ “And if I say no?” _

_ “Then I’ll kill this body, and go back for those other people you were with. I’ll make you watch, Kashaw, as I tear them apart, tendon by tendon.” Vex’s voice had never sounded so dark and devoid of humanity. The threat lingers for a long minute. _

_ Kashaw goes pale, “You tell me what you did to Vex- and you don’t hurt any of them.” _

_ “Are you negotiating?” Her eyes- hellish red that they had become- lit up, “You’ll stay?” _

_ “You leave them out of this.” He repeats firmly. Keyleth wants to call out to him- but knows no one would hear her. _

_ Vex/Vesh grins, “I can do that. There are other things to play with.” _

_ “If you so much as-“ _

_ “Your dirty friends are safe so long as you are with me. Try to run and I’ll kill them  _ **_slowly_ ** _.” She promises, extending a hand. _

_ Kashaw looks like he’d rather cut his own hand off than accept, but he takes Vex’s and squeezes it. There is a dim red glow from where they touch, but Keyleth doesn’t know what that means. _

_ “Zee is gonna kill me.” Kashaw mutters. _

_ “You’re safe here, don’t worry. I’ll protect you.” Vesh said seriously, “And should anyone try-“ _

_ “You said you know where Vex is.” _

_ “All business then. Well, a deal’s a deal.” Vesh leans in and puts Vex’s lips to his ear, “She’s-“ _

* * *

 

“Son of a  _ fuck _ !” Keyleth yelled suddenly.

Her friends, who had been waiting impatiently, all jumped and turned their gazes to her. Zahra and Vax are the closest, having not stepped more than two feet from her. She wonders how long they stood, waiting.

“Is Kash okay?” Zahra asked at the same time that Vax asked, “Was Vex there?”

Without deciding what information was more urgent Keyleth shouted, “Kash is alive. He’s fine.”

Zahra’s shoulders relax for just a moment. The warlock lets out a shaky laugh, relief overcoming her. Vax had gone very still, though.

“And Vex?” He asks, voice low.

She can’t look at anyone as she says, “Vesh has them both. I think.”

Vax and Zahra both know what this means, and they both share a glance to confirm. A nightmare given skin, specifically Vex’s skin.

“But…she’s alive?” Scanlan asks carefully. He has returned to the water’s edge. A new frost had set in, a thin layer of ice as she had been scrying. She’s cold.

“I don’t…I don’t know. Vesh said she knew where Vex was, and she started to tell him but. I lost connection.”

“What happened to Kash?” Zahra was watching the sky turn dark, turned away from the rest of the group. It was easy to see she was crying, but they all let her have the illusion of privacy.

“They- they made a deal. If he stayed with her, she wouldn’t…wouldn’t come after us,” Keyleth sighed, “And he accepted.”

“I’m going to kill him.” Zahra’s voice was tinted with sadness and fondness, “That’s just like him.”

“But it didn’t look like she wanted to hurt him. I think he’s safe, for now.” This was the one bit of good news she had, so she tried to sell it.

“Can you take us there?” Vax asks, and there’s hope enough in his voice to break him.

“I don’t know where they went. Far. It was day there. And there was grass. I’m sorry.” And she is. So immeasurably sorry. For Vax, for Zahra. For Kash and Vex. For Vox Machina.

“We need to regroup. See what we can do. We can’t help anyone from here.” Kima said, stepping forward. For the most part, she had kept to herself after being dropped by the Beholder.

“We have a base in Whitestone.” Scanlan shrugged, “We can rest there and figure things out in the morning.”

Trinket starts growling, though to Keyleth it sounds…sad.

She clears her throat and head- too whiplashed to process anything-and calls her magic forward again. Almost instantly, she wished she hadn’t.

**-is Den Mother?**

“She’s not here, Trinket.” The druid answered sadly. She understood the poor thing’s confusion. They were all very confused.

**Then I will get her** , he declared as he started walking forward. He was headed back into the lake! He makes it a few steps before Vax moved in front of him, looking to Keyleth for clarification.

“No, she’s not there, either. We don’t know where she is-“

**She is** **_here_ ** , Trinket insists. He tried to walk around Vax, but the rogue held his ground.

“Not that way, Trink.” Vax pushed against the bear, but the animal was not discouraged. Both of them ended up with one foot in the lake.

“We’re going to go to Whitestone for tonight, and then we’ll-“

**I will not leave without her.**

“Keyleth, will you tell him she’s not here?” Vax asks, struggling in vain to hold the bear back. A second foot in, now up past their ankles.

“He knows. He… says he won’t leave without her.” Keyleth has to cough to switch back to regular speech.

“Well tell him he’s coming with us to Whitestone, and that’s  _ that _ .”

What Trinket yells back is probably the rudest thing a brown bear has ever said to their half-elven uncle in the history of ever. Vex would be appalled to know her son had picked up such a mouth. Actually, she might have been proud. Might  _ be _ proud.

“Don’t make me make you, Trinket. I’m your uncle and you will-“

And this time, the roar is aggressive enough that Vax instinctively backs away. It was easy to forget that he was, in fact, a dangerous animal, especially when Vex insisted on treating him like a toddler. They were reminded of it now, though.

“Trinket,  _ please _ , I can’t lose you, too. Your mother would nail my ears to my ass if something happened to you while she… while she’s gone.” He’s pleading now, tugging on Trinket’s armor. The bear licks his face, but does not back out of the water.

Up to Vax’s shins now.

**She is here. I am not moving. Den-mother will come.**

“Grog, help me with this, will you?” Vax pushes and pushes, but Trinket is stubborn. Just like his mother.

Trinket is a loyal bear, to the end. Just not, Keyleth realized, loyal to any of them. He was here because he loved Vex, because she was his mother. He may have cared for the rest of Vox Machina, but the truth was, he belonged to Vex. Nothing they could do or say would change that.

Grog pads silently over, uncharacteristically somber. He grabs Vax and puts him back on the shore, and wades in after the bear. Vax moves to Keyleth’s side, and she threads their fingers together. His hand is frozen, and hers aren’t much better. He makes no acknowledgement of the contact.

There is a small stand-off, where Trinket waits to see what the goliath was going to do. Keyleth knew Trinket was ready to fight them, if the need arose. They had no way of transporting an unwilling bear.

The barbarian raised a hand to Trinket, and there was a small click. And then another. Keyleth couldn’t see what Grog was doing until- Trinket’s head piece fell into the water with a dramatic  _ plunk _ .

Vax starts to move forward, but Keyleth clenches her hand tighter. He stops to look at her, eyes wide and betrayed.

“No, we  _ can’t _ -“

Another piece of armor. Grog has opened the bag of holding and is placing them in there. With each one that is removed, the two of them step a little further out of the water.

“He won’t leave her, Vax. And we have no way to make him. Unless you want to actually fight him, in which case I do believe Vex  _ will _ kill you and let Trinket eat you.” Keyleth is fighting tears as she speaks.

Vax, however, cannot contain himself anymore. He tried to wipe the tears out of his eyes, but they just spilled over, and he is sobbing again. They are losing family left and right today, and they are all powerless in the face of it.

“You’re not allowed to get eaten by anything less than a dragon.” Grog was saying softly, rubbing Trinket’s exposed fur. 

“Not even that.” Vax hiccups, “You’re not allowed to get eaten, or hurt, or-“

Trinket, realizing that he was being allowed to stay, made a quick round of goodbyes. He licks Vax’s face, and stands still while Vax buries his face in his fur. Keyleth reaches out and does the same. It ends up with one big Vox Machina group hug, the center being the unarmored bear.

Eventually, the bear shrugs them all off.

“Your mother loved you, Trinket.” Zahra says. She had joined them all, too.

Trinket gives her a nudge,  **I love her, too.**

Keyleth isn’t sure if she’s the only one who heard Zahra say lov _ ed _ .

* * *

 

The trip to Whitestone was silent, everyone too lost in their thoughts to speak. So much had happened in the past two weeks that nothing felt real, except that it hurt too much to be a dream. The Sun Tree is starting to feel something like home, but as they pass through it, Keyleth can't help but remember the bodies that were swinging from its branches when they first arrived.

They were going to have to tell Pike. 

As they approach Castle Whitestone, their steps all slow, from a weary trudge to an unwilling shuffle. The last hundred feet take longer to walk than the rest of Whitestone had.

“Grog. Will you help me look for her?” Scanlan asks quietly as the doors swing open, not needing to specify.

Cassandra is waiting there for them, worry melting into relief once she recognized them. Her face froze on the stiff corpse in her brother’s arms.

“Welcome back. I expect your trip was-“

Percy dumps the corpse at her feet and walked past her without saying a word.

“Eventful?” Cassandra watched him go and turned to the rest of them for an explanation.

It is Zahra who says, “We’re short a few members.”

The girl puts a hand to her mouth, twisting back to look after Percival, “I’m so...sorry.”

Keyleth hiccups and wipes her hands on her armor, still mucky from the tomb. They all stalk into the castle, each taking a separate route from there. They wanted to be alone, each to grieve on their own. Group grieving would come later, when they could master themselves enough to comfort the others.

She doesn’t bother to look for Vax. When he wanted to be found, he would make himself known. In the meantime, however, and after she changes into her robes, she searches for something to do. Distractedly meandering through the castle, she ends up in the refugee housing hall, where Cassandra had placed most of the people from Emon. Jarret was there, still alert and on guard. The man never slept, it seemed.

She can’t do much to help in the way of magical healing, tired as she was, but she was able to craft small magics and tricks. Entertaining children was its own reward, their laughter echoing through the stone. Her spirit is broken, and it should have felt nice to hear such a sound. But each one reminds her of Vesh’s twisted version of Vex’s laugh, and her heart isn’t in it. She leaves as soon as it is dark enough to justify hiding in her room.

* * *

 

Vox Machina has their own hall, placed next to what Percival had once explained was his childhood room. She could only imagine what it was like for him.

She is surprised to stillness when she rounds the corner, Vax is resting against- against Vex’s door. He’s sitting- still in his armor- with one arm resting on a raised knee, head laid back against the door. There’s a piece of parchment in his other hand, dangling loosely. There are things littered all around him, and after approaching, she realized he had emptied Vex’s bag.

Keyleth moves a few things to make room for herself. She takes up a position next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. He doesn’t move or open his eyes, but he says, “She had this in the bottom of her pack.”

She looks down at the paper he nudges her with. It is the photo Tiberius had given Vex, lifetimes ago. Trinket and Vax, the bear with bows instead of armor, looking rather disappointed in life. Vax looked so much younger there, though it had only been a month or so ago. She supposed they all looked tired now.

“I have always been able to  _ feel _ her, Keyleth. As sure as wind and sunlight, she was always there.” His voice is raw from crying.

“And now?” Keyleth asks gently, putting the picture on the floor between them. Her fingers brush his, and she realizes he’s shaking.

Vax takes an uneven breath, “The instant she fell, I knew. It was like the thread between us suddenly went slack. I have been lonely in my life, at times. But I have never once been  _ alone _ .”

Keyleth wants to object- he’s not alone!- but she has never lost a sibling, much less a twin, so she keeps her mouth shut. The tears that had been sporadically coming and going today resurfaced now, and Vax turned to kiss her forehead.

“I keep waiting to wake up, to laugh because we actually fought some kind of demon that feeds on our worst fears, and I was the last one to realize. I keep waiting for her to slap me awake, telling me to quit being stupid, she’s fine.” Now that he’s started talking, Keyleth thinks, he can’t stop, “And part of me knows…she’s not. But I keep hoping.”

“We’re not giving up, Vax.” Keyleth assured him. He continued as if she hadn't spoken.

“I don’t know which thought is worse. That she is-“ he clears his throat, “That she is  _ dead _ , and something is wearing her skin; or that she is  _ alive _ and trapped with Vesh.”

“Vex is strong. She-“

“She died, Kiki. One way or another, she died.”

There is a finality there that stings, but Keyleth has no answer. Instead, she started inspecting the contents of Vex’s bag. There was a  _ lot _ of gold. Keyleth had never been sure of how much was in their party fund, but Vex had almost always conveniently had  _ just enough _ for whatever they were buying. Her shoulders must have hurt from the weight.

“She’s going to be pissed you went through her things.”

“Well she’s certainly welcome to come and yell at me.” Vax gave a laugh that sounded like a sob, “I would give anything for it.”

She awkwardly wraps her arms around him and squeezes his middle. They resituate themselves, his arm going behind her and her body resting fully against him. He still smells like tomb- they all do, she supposes, as it was a hard thing to wash away-but she doesn’t care. He smells like  _ Vax _ and in light of the past few hours, the smell has reminded her of something important: She loves him. She was going to live long past him, but he is going to live long past Vex and maybe the point of loving someone was that you accepted each little moment as a rare and precious thing, so that when it was over you had more memories than regrets.

“Would you mind a little company?” A small voice asks. Keyleth opened her eyes, not having realized she’d closed them. Pike, Scanlan, and Grog are all standing, looking down at them.

Pike’s eyes are red and puffy, streaks running down her cheeks. Scanlan and Grog, too, but it was easier to see on Pike’s face. The gnome was in plainclothes, adorned with the symbol of Pelor- not hers, then, but borrowed from Castle Whitestone. Or was it Castle De Rolo now?

Vax moved and hastily placed Vex’s belongings back in the bag. He slides it closer to the door and gestures for everyone to have a seat.

“Hold on, just a second,” Pike says, looking down the hall. She skips past them and goes to Percy’s door. Keyleth can hear her knock and call his name, but she can’t tell if Percy replies. Pike stands for a few more minutes before making another decision and going into her room. She emerged moments later with the blanket and pillows off her bed.

“You always have the best ideas, Pike.” Scanlan said, going to help her with her burdens.

It takes some doing, but they manage to find a comfortable way so that they’re all leaning on one another and Vex’s door. None of them suggest moving or going inside. Grog, as the largest, took up most of the doorway, but Vax was small enough to squeeze into the rest of it. Keyleth laid against Vax’s chest, caged in his arms, while Scanlan and Pike took to resting on either of Grog’s legs. It might have been a funny sight, had there been anyone to see it.

They talk for a while, until they’re too tired to go on. The conversation is a painful one, about Vex, about Vox Machina, but it helps. They talk about how they loved listening to her haggle, how she was always trying to save a couple silver here and there. Vax tells a couple of stories from their childhood, tearful and jagged, and they are all grateful to hear them.

They stay like that all night, no one really comfortable, but too comforted to move. She doesn’t hear Percy walk past them, or hear his door open. In fact, until the wee hours of the morning, she doesn’t hear anything else.

They all jolted awake, though when a familiar sound echoes.

_ BANG _

It is a sound they have heard a thousand times, and could recognize anywhere. There are a few sleepy glances down the hall and at each other, trying to figure out what happened. They are a mess of limbs as they try to get up- any coordination they had thrown off by the strange sleeping arrangement. It takes them too long to get up and  _ move _ .

_ BANG _

_ BANG _

Keyleth is the first to start running. She doesn’t know who follows her, doesn’t look back.

She takes a deep breath and yells, “PERCY!”

 


	3. The Cleric Applies a Bandage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pike learns of Vex's fate, and does what cleric's do best: try and help.

Healing words:

A simple spell in an ancient tongue,

That mends wounds and soothes pain.

Its pitiable limitation was

It only worked on physical things.

-A Limitation Pike never had to test

**The Cleric Applies a Bandage**

 

The weather in Whitestone was so much nicer than the weather in Vasselheim, and she enjoyed it to the fullest extent. It was still cold, but it wasn't bitter. She ran with children through the gardens, trying to help keep spirits high. She spends most of her time magically healing the very-gravely injured, and conversing with Gilmore. He’d been their friend for ages, but Pike can’t honestly say she knows much about him. He was just as buoyant as ever, though, and so she never lacked for company.

He’s regaling a tale of the time he swindled a pirate, who later came back to rob him. Well,  _ tried _ . Gilmore had a unique way of dealing with problems that reminded her a little of someone else she knew.

“He didn’t get the booty he came for, but he did leave with a smile on his face.” Gilmore laughed, hearty and needing no encouragement from anyone else.

Pike could only laugh along, having lived through her own pirate stories. None of them had ever had so… happy an ending. Honestly, most of hers just ended  _ and then they died and we kept sailing _ so they didn’t make for great conversation pieces.

A shadow covers the room, and someone clears their throat.

“Scanlan! Grog! How was your trip? You’ve got to get Gil to tell you about his adventures at sea I-“

“Pike, somethin’ bad’s happened.” Grog intones, voice low.

She snatches her healing kit and jumps to her feet. She looks them over, but assumes that they aren’t the ones in trouble. Oh, not good. Someone was really badly hurt. One of her family was hurt! Pike starts to blow past them, stomach knotting. She’d had this nightmare a hundred times, and now it was real.

“You won’t need that,” Scanlan pulls it gently out of her hands and sets it back down on the ground. The two of them are looking at her like- like someone died.

Oh, Sarenrae.

* * *

 

If the gunshots hadn’t woken up the whole castle, the sound of all five of them banging on Percy’s door certainly did. They were all calling out to him, demanding he open the door. The answer they got was the sound of things being thrown and tossed around, Percy screaming and yelling without making words.

Vax hits his forehead with the heel of his hand and pulls out his lockpicks. It is all of four seconds and the door is swinging open, and they all rush in. It is a tight squeeze, but their usual marching order seems to win out the day. Vax, Grog, Keyleth, Pike and Scanlan.

The room is what she expected, messy and disorderly, papers still wiggling mid-air from where they had been thrown. The vanity mirror was shattered, glass all around, a bullet still smoking in a hole in the wood. The bookcase was collapsed in on itself, books thrown to the ground and some had made their way to the lit fireplace, slowly catching fire. There is one exception to the chaos, and that is the bedside table. It is perfectly intact, with two envelopes resting atop it, fresh wax seals still drying.

Percy was wearing his regular pants, and the loose, white undershirt that poked out from beneath his armor. He was still wearing shoes, too, and he was covered in the dust of the destruction he had caused. His eyes were wild and wet from crying, hair completely a mess- probably from his running his hand through it as he did when he was agitated. There is his new pistol in his hand, smoke creeping out of the barrel.

“Percival, what the  _ hell _ ?” Vax shouts, kicking his way through broken furniture and the veritable sea of parchment that stood between Percy and the rest of them.

“I’m fine. Sorry to have woken you all. Please go back to bed.” Percy has this way of shutting the emotions in his voice off, and Pike knew that it was his noble upbringing that gave him that ability. He could be perfectly cordial and polite, but silently enraged. Or in this case, she suspected, heartbroken.

“Like fuck we will.” Vax spat, “Now start talking, Percival.”

Percy turns calmly and starts reaching for the bed table. He tries to grab the envelopes from there, but Vax is faster. Percy hurries to catch them out of the rogue’s hand, but Vax has already danced away, toward the fire to get a better look. Percy’s jaw is set, his posture rigid.

“To Vox Machina, to Vex.” Vax reads. He rips open the one addressed to Vox Machina first, “This is the way things ought to be, and I’m sorry that-“

“I was trying to find Vex.” Percival states evenly.

“Exactly  _ how  _ were you going to do that, Percy?” Keyleth asks. Her voice can do interesting things, too, when she’s upset. It gets low and starts to sound somehow matriarchal.

Before Percy has a chance to answer, Vax replies, “He was going to sell his soul in exchange for hers.”

Percy doesn’t even look ashamed, only angry.

“Why would you- we tried that already.” Keyleth shoots a look at Vax.

“I was responsible for her death, it only seemed fair. I opened the tomb, and she died because of my carelessness.” Percy has yet to lose his calm, which Pike has to admire.

Vax, however, has other thoughts, and is on Percy immediately. The first punch merely turns Percy’s head, but the second knocks the wind out of him. When he falls to the ground, Vax doesn’t stop, straddling Percy and striking hard. Pike and Keyleth both take a step forward, but Grog puts a hand on each of their shoulders.

“IN WHAT UNIVERSE IS YOUR SOUL  _ REMOTELY _ WORTH HERS?” Vax screamed, “SHE WAS MORE THAN YOU WILL  _ EVER _ BE.”

There are two more honest swings, before they become halfhearted swats. Vax picks Percy up by the collar and shakes him without saying anything. His mouth is moving but no sound is escaping. Percy’s right eye is swollen shut already, and there’s more bruises forming.

“I didn’t know what else to do.” Percy says finally. His voice is raspy and there is red spittle that escapes his lips when he speaks.

Vax lays him down, hands still curled around his shirt, “You want to die? Fine. I’ll do it myself. But I need you, to help me find her. You don’t have my permission to die yet. You owe me more than your life, De Rolo. You owe me Vex’s.”

And with that, the half-elf removed his weight from Percy and nearly pushed Pike to get out of the room. Keyleth gave Pike a look, and Pike gestured for her to go after Vax.

“Grog, let’s go see what’s in the kitchens.” Scanlan offers, tugging at the goliath. He hesitates, but lets himself be lead off, leaving Pike and Percy alone.

* * *

 

“You should try and get some sleep.” Percy says from the ground. His glasses are bent awkwardly, so he pulls them off and places them beside him. He seemed disinclined to move, however, and just lays there watching the ceiling, an inconstant stream of tears falling from the corner of his eye.

Pike shuts his door behind the others, and sits next to him. She extends a hand to heal him, and he grabs her wrist.

“I deserve much worse.”

“Everybody is hurting, Percy. All of us. And I can’t do anything to help. So let me fix this, at least.” She pleads, already pushing herself forward. He tries to keep his grip, but honestly she’s stronger than him.

“I summoned the Raven Queen.”

“Why her?” Pike wondered as she laid a hand against his chest. The light was warm, even on her end, and she released a small spell. She watched the bruises fade from a violent purple to a dull yellow-green. The swelling on his eye went away, leaving little trace behind.

“I figured she had Vex.”

“And what did she say?”

“Is her answer not clear?” Percival gestures loosely to his room. She knew a diversion when she heard one. There was no fooling her, but she was willing to give him a moment to process before pressing him. She chose a safer path, for the moment.

“You shot at the Raven Queen?”

He thinks for a moment, “Seems so.”

“I’m surprised she answered at all. You’re lucky she didn’t  _ kill _ you, Percy. How could you be so foolish?” There was a time to be patient and understanding, and there were times when you needed to harden the line so that you were understood.

“I killed Vex’ahlia. She is my-“ but Percy catches himself, “I killed her, and if I could trade places I would. So I had to try.”

The bruises had all but disappeared.

“Did she…did she tell you if Vex is alive or not?” Pike is afraid to know the answer, but you can’t fix what you don’t know.

“I told her that I would take Vex’s place, gladly and zealously. She said that a deal had been struck already, and that I had nothing she wanted.”

“And?” Pike presses, pulling his face so that he has to look at her.

He breaks eye contact almost immediately, “And that’s it.”

“Percival De Rolo, I have touched the darkest parts of your soul and brought light to them. Do  _ not  _ presume to be able to lie to me.” Gone is the softness of Pike Trickfoot, the healer. Present is the commanding authority of a war cleric of Sarenrae.

He sits up and starts stacking papers, avoiding looking at her at any cost. She deliberates her questions, knowing that she could push him, if it was necessary. But there were more important things to figure out than the exact wording of a conversation he’d had with a goddess.

“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. I just want to know one thing, really.”

He stops to quirk an eyebrow at her.

“After whatever she said to you, do you believe Vex is alive? Somewhere, either in her body or not?”

Percy takes a deep breath, “I  _ have _ to believe that.”

“But  _ do _ you?”

* * *

 

She nearly jumps out of her skin when she gets back to her room. Waiting there on her bed was- oh thank Sarenrae it wasn’t Scanlan. The figure wasn’t hard to make out, except for the fact that it was dark. She tossed a light out from her hand, and Vax blinked at the sudden brightness.

“Sorry, Pike.” Vax mumbles.

“I know.”

“Were you going to sleep?”

She shakes her head and starts her nightly climb. The bed was taller than she was, and so it was no small effort to reach the top. She made a makeshift stairway out of books and a chair, but that had fallen yesterday and so she was being very careful. She was glad that Vax didn’t offer to help her up.

“It can wait, if you were.” He offers once she seated, sounding very much like he was having second thoughts about this conversation.

“Well, we’re both here now.”

Vax swallows, “I don’t know how to ask any of this. And I wouldn’t- if it wasn’t…”

“Go ahead. We’re family, Vax. You can ask me anything.”

She knows where the questions are headed. It’s not something she’s ever talked about, to anyone. Not to Grog, not to Scanlan. She had placed it aside and tried to keep her head up. But she knows what he wants.

He closes his eyes and his hands ball up the fabric of his pants, “When you died. Did it… what was it like?”

“What happened to me and what happened to-“ she stops when he sucks in air, “It’s not the same.”

“Do you remember anything from…after?”

Pike thinks for a moment, “No. I remember the demon, and then I heard a voice calling me back. And I was with you all again.”

He seems stuck on his next question. Pike rolls up her shirt, and takes his hand, guiding his fingers to her middle. He looked closely, but saw no mark, no scar. No evidence of what had happened.

“I wake up some nights, doubled over in pain. I’ll be ripping off my shirt, looking for an injury that has long healed. There’s nothing wrong- I’ve had it examined. Physically I’m fine. But I was dead, and I think that is always going to leave a mark of some kind.” Pike let his hand go, trying to keep her voice steady. Vax could keep a secret, she knew, but it was still upsetting to know that  _ someone _ knew.

He rubs her hair, “You never said.”

“There’s nothing anyone can do. No sense in making everyone worry.”

He stares at her for a moment and asks, “Do you ever wish we hadn’t…”

There are days where the phantom pain is so intense she can’t breathe or move, can’t call out for help or pray for relief. Healing magic was useless against it, she had found, and so all she could do was wait it out. There were nightmares so intense that she didn’t sleep for days, too terrified to be alone in a dark room. So, yes. There were days where living was so hard she wasn’t sure she could do it anymore. Where she couldn’t imagine that  _ this _ was better than having never woken up.

“No.” She says firmly, “I don’t.”

Vax can keep a secret, but there were just things you couldn’t unload on another person. Especially not when they’re as fragile as Vox Machina is right now.

“I don’t even know if she’s still here.” Vax admits miserably, voice cracking. She can only imagine what he’s feeling.

“I think, regardless, we have to get her back.  _ Something’s _ got her, and we don’t leave people behind.” And this she says with the surest of convictions. They had carried her when she was in literal pieces, and she owed them each at least that much.

“I know. Of course, that’s not what I-“ he takes a breath, “But I don’t know how to  _ be _ when…”

Pike gives a lofty sigh, “Do you know what I think Vex will be most mad about, when we get her back?”

“You mean besides Percival?”

And, for the second time that night, Pike says, “All the treasure she missed out on.”

* * *

 

The next morning was slow in coming, but it came nonetheless. Without having said anything, Vox Machina (and a tiefling they had picked up?) gathered together. They were already planning their next move. They wanted to look for Vex, but there were other matters to attend to first. The dragons, namely.

She can hear the sorrow in their voice, the defeat, as they admit that the dragons are a more pressing matter. They seemed convinced Vex and another of their friends were not in any immediate danger, but the dragons and fire Ashari- and more importantly the Fire Plane- needed to be dealt with.

They all look terrible.

Grog was the only exception, but she blamed it on his short attention span. He was sad, of course he was, and if he thought about it, he’d cry. So he just didn’t think about it, and Grog was the only one among them with that ability. He was dour, of course, but Pike knew he was already at the “Who do we kill” portion of grieving. There were advantages to being Grog.

Pike squares her shoulders, and pushes everything to the side.

Vox Machina needed her to be their mascot, their smiling face and gentle hand. They needed her to tell them that it was going to be okay, and make them believe it.

And so she would.

 


	4. The Barbarian's Rage Fails Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely notes! Vogel and I love reading them!

A creature of impulse

Grog only felt pity for this terrified little thing.

-A statement Grog never applied to himself

**The Barbarian’s Rage Fails Him**

 

Looking for Vex fell to the side, in favor of dragon hunting. Well, first they made a few stops. Keyleth’s family was a fun fight, came away a bit singed. Part of his beard had to grow back, but it was faithful, that beard. Pike healed the burns right up, a smile and a friendly pat. She later tucks a flower there that, when no one was looking, Grog hid in the handle of Craven Edge. (Much to the sword’s bitching, but if Pike liked flowers in things then he was gonna have fuckin’ flowers.)

They pass his herd, but decide it isn’t the time, which-pfft, of course he was ready. He could fight Kevdak any  _ where _ , any  _ time _ . But Vox Machina insisted, really, that they should go on to find the Sphinx. Kevdak’s lucky day, then.

* * *

 

Now the Sphinx, the Sphinx is a weird fight.

Firstly, what kind of beast puts a fuckin’ puzzle maze thing? Like, really, either you kill the people coming at you, or you don’t. Don’t be a pussy and let your house do the killing for you.

So, anyways. They get through the puzzles. (Which Grog does not understand but follows along anyways.)

The Sphinx is fuckin’ huge. Like, massive. So big that when Grog takes a couple of swings, Craven Edge pimps the shit out of itself, and becomes even more badass. It’s like Winter’s Crest all over again.

It takes some doing- and more fuckin’ puzzles- but they start to understand the game. They need a name, and the letters are hidden away. So Grog jumps in, feet first, and finds the letters. Pike has tried to teach him to read in the past, and it’s the only thing that lets him figure out the strange symbols.

But he is floating away, and so he throws Craven Edge back through the portal, hoping to find an anchor. For a second he isn’t sure, but the chain goes taut and he manages to heft himself out.

Grog has done a lot of things in his life, a lot of bad things, some not so bad things. Pulling himself out of that portal was, by far, the worst thing he had ever done. Yes, Craven Edge had found an anchor, straight in the middle of Pike. And he knew the damn sword had sapped some of her strength. But she held the wall behind her with one hand, and Craven Edge with the other, making sure that Grog could escape.

She was strong, and he was stupid.

“It’s okay, Grog,” she tells him, pulling Craven Edge out, “You’re back. That’s all that matters.”

But all he sees is the crimson gushing out from between her fingers, sickened by blood for the first time in his life. He nearly costs them the fight, he was so shaken. He wants to hate Craven Edge for it, but knows it was his own doing.

And then the fight was just…over, and Grog kind of tunes out a bit.

He runs outside ahead of everyone, feels the cold wind strike his face, and he takes a deep breath. He takes another step and-

“Why does my mouth taste like firewhiskey?” He smacks his lips, not upset but confused.

They launch into a long and guilt-trippy explanation, and they start going after Craven Edge. He tries to reason with them- he could manage! It was a one-time slip up, Craven Edge was too useful to just  _ throw away _ .

But Pike says Craven Edge goes, and so it goes. Even though he was  _ sure _ he could control it.

She says, “I can’t lose you twice in one day,” and he couldn’t stand to do another thing to hurt her. So he lets them toss Craven Edge into the abyss. He finds more flowers to hide away on his warhammer.

* * *

 

The time comes to face Kevdak, and Grog… Grog is  _ scared _ . He feels like he’s twenty again, shrimpy and too small to defend himself. He remembers the pain, both the physical and the emotional, of being beaten and left for dead.

And he remembers the brightest light, and the smallest of all angels, taking his hand and promising him that he was going to be okay. And he believed her, and she never left his side. She was patient, he was stupid. She was kind, he was callous. She was Pike, and he was Grog.

That night, as they’re planning, he admits the truth.

“You know I’m not, like, scared of death. I would die by a  _ dragon _ , I would die by a  _ beholder _ . And I wouldn’t care. Like, as long as it was a beautiful death. But I don’t wanna die…From Kevdak. Not  _ him _ .” He is quiet, and it is just the two of them. He doesn’t look at her, doesn’t want to see her think he’s weak.

She shakes her head and takes his hand, “I won’t let that happen.”

And he believes her, because she is Pike and he is Grog, and she has never lied to him.

He manages to talk his way to Kevdak, no small task. These new herd members were as shaky as leaves in the fall, and he knew his voice made them rattle and soil their britches. His family is at his back, never more than a few steps behind. He can hear Percy calling out his movements, warning the party of incoming dangers through their magical jewelry.

He was glad his new family was so strong, because the herd had grown a lot. (He can’t even fuckin’ tell you how many are in the courtyard. A shit-ton, that’s how many) If he lost this fight- and he wasn’t planning on it- they would have a lot to deal with. So, he had to win.

Kevdak is as big as he remembers- bigger, too, once he activates the Titan Knuckles. Grog has to remind himself that he was stronger now, that he had his family and that Pike was going to watch after him. He swallows once, and screams so loud that even Kevdak had to stop.

He was Grog Strongjaw, and he would  _ not _ be defeated.

That being said, Kevdak was built like an oak tree. The hits seemed to bounce off, pointless, while Grog gets battered left and right. He has fought many a foe, and he knows when he’s beat. But there is no shame in using your full strength, and Grog’s strength was a gnome cleric who was only knee high to a grasshopper.

So he calls out for them, Vox Machina, to show the full strength of Strongjaw.

* * *

The battle turns after that, and they start raising hell. Shots ring out, and Scanlan freezes Kevdak in place, much to Grog’s excitement. He is able to steal the Bloodaxe, favored weapon of Kevdak and a personal torment for Grog. But it swings well, and all the sweeter for its sentimental value.

He swings and swings, Percy shoots off an arm, Grog chops a hand off. Kevdak stays frozen, powerless in the might of Scanlan Shorthalt. (Grog is going to kiss him later, or buy him a drink. Or several. Whichever one he wanted.)

There are five people behind Grog, slashing and hacking away. It’s impossible to block or dodge them all, so he ends up taking more damage than he is comfortable with. He looks to Pike, for healing, but she is also surrounded, and he’d rather she took care of herself. He looks to Scanlan, who is not only being attacked, but maintaining the spell holding Kevdak in place. It’s impressive, really.

But then, Scanlan takes a nasty blow and Grog sees the purple energy that had been coating Kevdak flicker and disappear. A terrible scream now escapes, one having been held back by the spell.

Kevdak was free, and he was angry. But it’s kind of funny to watch him try and figure out a way to attack when one arm was hanging by a wiggling tendon and the other was lying on the stone by his feet. He bellows new orders- kill them all. Grog goes to shut up him up with another swipe of the Bloodaxe.

Except, Grog takes another few hits, and he can feel it. He can feel his body start to slow, like he has before. He’s technically died twice, but he’s passed out more than a few times. And he knows what will happen if he passes out now.

Pike is hurt, Scanlan is hurt. Percy has fallen to the ground, and has more than a few arrows sticking out of his body. He can’t see Vax and Keyleth, but he guesses they’re probably not doing so well either.

There are too many.

There are too many, and there is no rescue coming.

There are too many, and he is going to die.

The thought doesn’t bother him as much as it had this morning. What did bother him, though, was the thought was that, not only was  _ he _ going to die, but so was everyone else. So was Pike. Which he could not allow to happen. There is only one thing to do, then.

Grog clears his throat and pinches his earring to activate it.

“Vox Machina. It’s been a fucking honor. Get the fuck out of here, and you assholes look after Pike.”

There are several protests, of course they’re not leaving. Vox Machina doesn’t leave people, never have. But they have never been so overwhelmed, and Grog knows that the moment  _ he  _ is overcome, the rest of them won’t stand a chance. The most he can do is buy them time. That’s what family does, protect each other.

“I said LEAVE-“ he yells, and Pike’s head jerks towards him, only now becoming aware of his command. A moment passes as she scans the battlefield, reaching the same conclusion he did. But she starts towards him anyways. 

She is brave, and he is stupid.

“Fucking  **GO** !” He swings towards Kevdak, axe following through to the people behind him. They dance back, but only for a couple seconds. His friends all mutter something in the earrings, but he can’t hear. His heartbeat is so loud it drowns everything out.

“Save the fuckin’ world.” Grog orders, and the earrings grow silent. It is the best he can hope for, now.

Scanlan grabs Pike from behind, and they disappear in a purple rectangle. The cleric didn’t even have time to yell. He thinks that the last thing he said to her was  _ thank you _ .

His lip is busted, his side is bleeding. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing more blood than he wiped away. He grins at them all, glancing upwards just in time to see an eagle flying away, followed by Percy on the broom he had bought from that candle guy. (Grog remembers- he said he’d bought it for Vex)

“Do you remember when we first met, Pike?” He asks, another swing. Misses.

He takes a slash across his arm and it stings like a bitch.

“That was worse than this, so don’t worry.” He’s not talking to anyone, knows she can’t hear him. But he’s scared, in the end, and talking to Pike was the only thing that was steadying his nerve.

Another gash across his thigh, and it nearly brings him to his knees. But damn if he doesn’t keep his feet. He’s  _ not  _ going out with his head bowed, that’s for fuckin’ sure.

“Had a lot of good times, didn’t we Pik-“

 


	5. The Rogue Waits to Strike

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time, no see folks! I got busy all of a sudden, so this took a while. Hope it's worth the wait. Thanks for coming along this far!

When he thought he was going to die,

He thought of her,

Of the life they had shared together.

He wonders if she had time

To do the same

\- A question Vax never had to ponder

**The Rogue Waits to Strike**

They lose Grog within days of losing Vex.

During the day he can convince himself it was the right call. During the day he tells himself that their mission is too important. During the day he can pull the fire out of his heart and put it into his blade. During the day, he doesn’t have to think about it.

But at night, when he is alone, he remembers sneaking in and shaving off half of Grog’s beard. At night, when he is alone, he remembers what it feels like to be safe with a goliath watching over him. At night, when he is alone, he remembers that Grog protected Vex when she was hurt. At night, when he is alone, he cannot pretend like they did not abandon a friend to die.

When he asks Scanlan how Pike took it, Scanlan tells him that he had seen Pike angry, seen Pike hurt, seen Pike _literally_ torn in pieces, but the sound she made- the desperate, broken cry of a sibling lost- would haunt him until the end of his days.

She doesn’t speak for days after, just cries silently, healing anyone who needed it, numbly moving where they asked, eating when they told her. Scanlan takes primary charge of her, guiding her by the hand, never more than a few inches from her.

He and Keyleth take up a similar stance, leaving Percival the odd duck out. But he had never been one to seek out comfort, and Vax wasn’t about to offer it to him anyways. It was perhaps a cruel punishment, and Vex would chastise him for it if she were here. But she wasn’t here, and that was the point.

So they gather together and sneak away, leaving the city behind them, still bound and imprisoned by goliaths and a dragon. They can do nothing to help, not when their team was missing so many. They weren’t strong enough on their own. They…they need help.

They make it back to Whitestone, bruised, bleeding, and broken.

They don’t have a body to bury, so Keyleth _shapes_ a stone for him, leaving Pike to carve it. It stays blank for two days, as she sits vigil. Pike prays, and Vax sits with her. He isn’t one for prayer, has never been, but he sends up a few silent requests of his own, hoping against hope that someone hears.

“So what are you going to put?”  He asks during a break in her prayers, surprised it has taken her so long.

She wipes her eyes, “I’m not going to put anything.”

Vax doesn’t want to tell her that Grog’s dead, to force it back down her throat. She knew, he knew, they all knew. He was gone, and it hadn’t been an easy death. They had all heard Kevdak’s threats, all known what the herd was capable of.

But she gets to her feet, “He couldn’t even write his own name, you know. I asked him if he wanted to learn, but he said no. He said _I_ knew his name and that was enough.”

“So blank?”

“Blank.” She agreed, and no more was said on the matter.

Percival’s city was a graveyard long before Vax and Vox Machina had walked there, but there were now far too many familiar headstones to visit.

* * *

 

Whitestone’s library is rather lacking, much to Zahra and Vax’s disappointment, and it yields no results. There is nothing about Vesh, as Vax had expected. When he had met Kashaw, he had said he was the only one who’d knew anything about her.

So she comes with Vox Machina, convinced the answers were out there. With her magic, it is almost like having Tiberius back. With her anger, it is almost like having Grog back.

Kima travels with them, once Allura is safely secured. He’s always liked Kima, and she brings a can-do attitude they were sorely lacking.

None of them are used to sitting still though, having been running for the past three years from one disaster to the next, with no time to rest between.

So Vox Machina does what Vox Machina used to do best: they packed their bags, and they moved on.

* * *

 

They take the dragons, one at a time, don their scales as armor, wear their teeth as jewelry, fashion their claws to weapons, sell their hearts and raid their hordes to refurbish the towns they had inhabited.

It takes nearly twelve months, but the dragons are dealt with.

Scanlan’s hand is crushed in the fight against Thordak, and he will never really recover the use of his third and fourth fingers, despite magical healing. Keyleth breaks an arm, and Vax shatters two ribs. Zahra is exhausted and collapses just after the battle, overdrawn and tired.

When they found themselves back in Westruun, the dragon defeated, the herd long gone and forgotten, they take a moment to grieve. They stand in the courtyard where he died, each wondering where specifically it had happened, if he had felt it, if it had hurt. They hold hands, and if tears would make plants grow, they would have had a new garden here, which Grog would have hated, so it was good they didn’t.

They had found Grog’s warhammer amongst the treasure, a withered flower hidden away in the handle. Pike takes it for herself, and its fire still blazes bright.

Pike’s first request since Grog is that they look for her Papaw Wilhand. They find his house torn and crushed, door broken and long since open, dust and dirt piling up. Pike’s voice echoes in the silence, twelve months of destruction too thick to break.

They search the entire house, and find no sign of him.

Vax spots a loose board in the living room, and pulls it up quietly, not wanting to alert anyone or get anyone’s hopes up. Especially once he breathes in the smell, one he’s become quite familiar with over the last year: decay. Tucked on a tiny makeshift bed was a small body, a dim gold statue held tightly in his arms, drawn taut through the withering of muscle and flesh.

There are molded foodstuffs and some sort of alcohol placed up against the wall. He’d been in here a while, and seemed to have died in his sleep. Worse ways to go in this day and age.

Vax crawls back out from under the house and carefully replaces the board.

Pike comes from upstairs, “Well, our statue of Sarenrae is gone, so he must have taken that with him. He wouldn’t leave without it.”

She sounds so hopeful and positive, like her old self, just for a moment.

Vax offers her a drink, “Here’s to hoping he’s safe out there.”

Another of Pike’s prayers have gone unanswered, and he thinks she is beginning to shine less.

* * *

 

Before he knows it, it has been two years. The world has carried on, it has started to heal. There are wounds that won’t heal for generations, cities that will never stand perfectly right again, twins that have yet to be united.

They send word to every corner of the world: They’re looking for Vesh, and they don’t care how much it costs. The only description they have to offer is a portrait of Vex, which Vax had drawn up based on his own face, and the best likeness of Kash they could give after two years.

Well, Keyleth actually helped there.

She had been scrying intermittently this whole time, keeping tabs on them, waiting for the day when Vesh and Kashaw were somewhere she recognized, somewhere she could tree-walk them to, but had had little luck. Vesh must have been doing it on purpose, but no one understood how she could know.

The man Keyleth describes- and the picture she eventually settles on- is not the Kashaw that Vax recognizes. Kashaw Vesh had been a warrior, a cleric, strong and lean and vital. There had been fire in his eyes, passion and conviction and willpower. This image now was of a man defeated- thin, frail, gaunt. (When they are not in front of Zahra, Keyleth confesses it was much worse, that he was covered in marks, like the scars he’d had before, but everywhere. She says he isn’t fighting Vesh anymore, and she hasn’t heard him speak in months. They’re running out of time.)

Vex’s hair had been cut short, Keyleth said, and so Vax had her cut his own hair to match. They were twins, and when they got her back, he didn’t want her to feel like she’d missed out. His hair hadn’t been above his ears since they were young, and it is an odd feeling.

So Keyleth watches, and watches, and it never comes to anything.

* * *

 

There are moments where things start to feel almost normal, and he hates them. They feel like betrayal, like he is forgetting her every time he smiles. It starts to feel like everyone has given up on her, like they were moving on, leaving her in the past.

He thinks Percival is the only one who misses Vex as much as he does. He sees quivers of arrows slung against the walls of his workshop, nearly a dozen in total, all full of various weapons she’d never get to shoot.

He often sits in Percy’s workshop watching the human work. The two of them had nothing to say to one another, and Percy never bothered to ask why he was there or how he was doing. It was a relief, most days, to be out of sight of the friends he had left who cared about him. Their interaction was limited to the rare occasions that he’d hold something for Percy, who would wordlessly hold whatever it was out.

Percival never mentions it to anyone, and neither does he.

* * *

 

Two years, four months and six days since losing Vex, a letter comes.

Vax has almost left the room, disinterested in the pleas of neighboring villages or countries or planes or universes or deities. They’d received hundreds, and Vax has grown tired of answering them.

But he listens when Keyleth starts yelling. There was a village massacred, left to ruin and rot. There were four survivors who lived to tell the tale, one sent in each direction and told to spread the word. There was a new baddie in town and-

Vax keeps walking, tying on his cloak to go for a hike, until she calls out-

“ _It’s Vex_!”

 


	6. The Husband Renews His Vows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is a look at how Kashaw spends these couple of years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to put a warning here, because Vesh is a shitty person. Included in this chapter are a lot of elements of an abusive relationship. Gaslighting, victim blaming, physical abuse, mental abuse. I didn't like writing this, but I think that this is probably what Kashaw would have experienced in this situation. Please be careful with yourself if these things are triggering or sensitive for you.

Life sucks and then you die.

And then you die again.

And again.

And again. And life  _ still _ sucks.

-Platitudes Kashaw never had to alter

**The Husband Renews His Vows**

In his younger days, he’d had such hope for the future. He had been  _ special _ and had a  _ purpose _ and everything was going to be wonderful. He was going to marry the goddess that his village worshiped, because she had loved him and decided so. Every day of his life it was,  _ Kashaw, you’re going to be something important _ .

And then the day of his wedding came, and everything got upturned. His head was suddenly full of an endless barrage of evil, a millennia of darkness and mayhem, and to this day, he has nightmares of Vesh’s memories. In that moment, youthful pride and indignation overcame him and he attacked her, and it had cost him his entire village.

He’s still not entirely sure how he escaped from her grasp.

He knows they’re still connected- he can feel her nails on his back, her teeth at his ear, every time he uses his magic. The feeling doesn’t last long, and she never appears in front of him again. But she’s  _ there _ and the threat of her was more than enough to keep him from forming any relationships with people.

Of course, then Zahra came barreling into his life like a drunken ogre in a ceramics shop and refused to leave.

He’d forgotten what it was like to  _ love _ someone- to truly care that they were well, and to have them care about you. At one point, he cried about it, to her, when they were both hammered and tired. He remembers slurring the sentence  _ I am so glad you exist _ at her. More embarrassing than that, he tells her about Keyleth.  _ She’s so hot _ , he whined,  _ but I shouldn’t have kissed her, my wife will kill her if she ever finds out. _

Zahra never asks or pries, just waits patiently for information, and it’s not long before he’s spilling his guts. But she doesn’t run, like she should have, she just takes his hand and leads him back to the Slayer’s Take, and he woke up knowing he’d stay with her as long as he could. Vesh would come for him one day, but for now, Zahra still wanted him around. So he agreed to stay in Vasselheim.

As it turns out, this is how things went to shit.

* * *

 

You can only have a nightmare so many different ways before they start to blur together. In time, you stop being scared of the nightmare, tell yourself you can handle whatever life throws at you. And then real life takes that confidence, tears it to tiny pieces, burns those pieces into ash, then throws that ash in the lake, and for good measure electrocutes the lake.

Sometimes, you miss the nightmares because at least then, you could wake up and they’d be over.

* * *

 

She comes back at the worst possible time, and in the worst possible way. It’s harder to remember the horror she was when she looked like a pretty half-elf who happened to have red eyes. Harder still when she uses Vex’s voice and memories- her speciality- to talk to him. But he knows what kind of monster she is, and so every time he looks at Vex’s body he thinks  _ devil _ . If she ever gets back to her body, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to smile at her again.

For her part, Vesh is true to her word. She doesn’t go after Zahra or Vox Machina, just anyone else who happened to be in their path. He doesn’t try to run- and tries to stop her when he can. But when he tries, she cuts him (small, little cuts, brings back memories of their wedding day) and it  _ hurts _ and there’s only so much a man can take.

* * *

 

The first time she kills him, it’s an accident and he doesn’t realize he’s died.

Vesh is still there, though the air around her is weird and it’s cold all of a sudden. It’s dark, and foggy, and he can’t really make anything out. Gods, why was it so cold?

“Kash?” She asks, sounding surprised, “What’re you doing here?”

He doesn’t answer her, of course.

“I’m so sorry.” She says, offering her hand and a sympathetic smile. Her best imitation of Vex by far.

“Knock it off.” He growls, “It’s unsettling.”

“Kash, do you know where you are?”

He looks around for a moment. She teleported them to so many places, and he rarely has any clue where they are. So he shrugs, “Why don’t you tell me?”

“These are the Shadowlands, Kashaw.”

“Vesh this is-“

“Not Vesh.” She corrects, “It’s me.”

“Very funny.”

“You died, Kashaw.”

“I’m not that lucky.” He mumbles quietly.

Her face falls, “I’m sorry. But you’re here now. I can take you through. I know a shortcut.”

“Shortcut to where?”

But he doesn’t get an answer. Instead, he wake up to Vex’s face and Vesh’s worried voice, “Kashaw, my love, are you okay?”

“What the hell just happened?” He demands. His whole body hurts- and then he remembers.  _ Vesh leave that man alone _ , to which she responded by turning her wrath upon him, and he had fallen. Gods, he’d just died. She’d just killed him.

Vesh looks concerned, but then she says, “That was your own fault, Kashaw. Don’t make me do that again.”

* * *

 

He honestly can’t tell you how long it’s been- they jump from place to place so often, leave behind them a trail of bodies so high he can’t see the sun- when she kills him the second time. This time, it’s because she’s mad at him and completely on purpose.

He sees Vex again.

“Are you, like, stalking me or something?” He asks flippantly, almost surprised that she was there.

She laughs, “Only a little.”

“Is it really you, or am I just meeting a spirit who is also wearing your face?”

Vex thinks for a moment, “I don’t know.”

“Great. That’s really helpful, thanks.”

“Most people only die once.” She says, changing the subject, “What brings you back a second time?”

“Marriage.” Kashaw answers, walking up to her. As he steps, a ground appears beneath him. It starts to look like an actual place, the less he pays attention to it. The mist goes away, dissipates as his feet push it away.

“We should move quickly.” She says, “I can get you out before she takes you back.”

“Right.” He motions for her to lead on, and they start walking. It’s more running than walking, but whatever it is, it isn’t fast enough.

He opens his eyes and Vesh is there, disappointedly sighing, “I hate when you make me do this.”

He starts to say  _ me too _ but finds fear where there was once courage. Submission where there was defiance. She has killed more than he realized.

“Why are you here, Vesh?”

“What do you mean, dear?”

“You’re just going from one place to the next, not doing anything. What are you doing here?”

“I thought we were having fun, seeing the world together. Isn’t that what married people do?”

Kash grunts, “But why are you  _ here _ ?”

Vesh crosses her arms, “I wanted to be with you and…”

Kashaw raises an eyebrow, “And? What do you want from  _ me _ , then?”

“I want what I’ve always wanted from you. A family.”

He didn’t think he had anything left to be uncomfortable about, but there it was.

* * *

 

After a while, he checks out. She does what she wants, and he lets her, and he tries to drown out the sounds. She believes this to be acceptance, which she then takes to mean that he is growing more comfortable with her. She takes his hands, she kisses him, and he pretends he is someone else.

He thinks it’s been a year and a half, maybe two.

He sees the maybe-real Vex twice more in that time, and each time they get a little further. He almost makes it to what he jokingly-but-correctly identifies as “the other side,” but Vesh pulls him back before his soul is safe. He wonders how many times a person can die and be revived before they start to lose their minds.

They’re in a small city one day, when he realizes Vesh hasn’t killed someone in almost four days. If he had to admit to paying attention to her, he’d say she almost seemed down. He doesn’t want to, but he asks, “What’s the matter?”

She seems surprised, “We don’t have many good memories, do we?”

A year ago, he would have popped off  _ hard to make good memories when you’re a bitch _ but instead he says, “No, we don’t.”

Her shoulders sink a little, “Vex’ahlia has a lot, in here. Good memories. Did you know she was in love?”

“I didn’t know her well, so no.”

“She was. With one of her friends. It’s sad, almost.”

He wanted to say  _ If you’re feeling bad about it you could always leave. _ But he says, “Yeah.”

“I want to visit the places she’s been. We should make some happy memories.”

_ Fat chance _ , he thinks and says, “Fine.”

* * *

 

They go to cities he can’t remember, cities he doesn’t care about. And Vesh makes something of an effort- if you wanted to call it that. She doesn’t set any of them on fire, she only kills a few people who ask too many questions- and one who remembered Vex’ahlia from her original visit.

There are seconds where it isn’t painful to be around her.

* * *

 

But then he sees Vex.

“You’re here again.” She says, grabbing his hand and pulling him harshly. They’ve taken to running, now, because there was always the chance that they could get him through to the other side, and he’d be free. But now, today, he pulls his hand back and sits down.

“Is there like a frequent-death stamp card or something that I can get? I feel like I need one.” He asks, stretching. Here, in this interim space between life and death, his body feels like home again. It doesn’t hurt, he isn’t sore. His eyes and throat aren’t dry, his ears aren’t ringing. He doesn’t want to waste that feeling by running to a finish line he’d never reach.

“I don’t think so, but I’ll ask.” She laughs, “I didn’t know people could give up on dying.”

“When you’re married to Death, I guess that’s all you can do to fight it.”

Vex’s eyes dart down, “I’m sorry I wasn’t back fast enough.”

“Vesh was just waiting for a chance to fuck my life up again. Not your fault.” He says, because it feels good to forgive _ some _ one of  _ some _ thing.

Vex doesn’t answer, but she sits down next to him. He flinches, a little, because she and Vesh have the same face, but Vex doesn’t touch him. If she notices, she doesn’t say anything.

“It’s good that you’re still fighting.” Vex says, “I need to ask you for something. It’s important.”

He laughs, dry but still the first laugh in a while, “That’s new. What can I help you with today?”

“It won’t be easy. But I need you to write to Vox Machina. Tell them it’s time to save you.” She says, almost urgently, “One of them should have something to kill Vesh.”

“I don’t know if you’re a figment or if you’re really here but-“

“What’s the worst that can happen? She’ll kill you?”

Kash has become familiar enough with the feeling of coming back to life. It’s a slow pain, now, that creeps in starting at his toes. It’s up to his knees by now, “Well, I think I need a few more stamps before I get a prize.”

“Good luck.”

And when he wakes, Vesh does not even acknowledge him.

* * *

 

It’s when she brings up the idea of  _ a family _ again that he decides to follow through. She has a more concrete definition to what that means, and he’d rather die again than create some hellish offspring of hers, so it’s time.

As if sensing his distaste for the matter, Vesh’s temper picks back up again, like it was always bound to, and people start dying left and right again. Cities burn under her feet and Kashaw knows pain and discomfort like he has never known before. (His fault, he thinks. Just like his village, and everything after. His fault, his fault, his fault.)

He is alone long enough one day to save one person, and write one line on a page. (And sketch a couple of symbols as a way of signing his name.) He writes it in the blood that’s dripping from his fingers- doesn’t know if it’s his or someone else’s- and tells the man to run, to get this back to Vox Machina.

He doesn’t know if the man gets away or not, but he hopes. He has no one to pray to- the only goddess he ever prayed to was both A) a demon and B) in the bed next to him-but he closes his eyes and thinks  _ really hard _ about it. He’s falling asleep that night when Vesh says, “I’m glad you invited Vox Machina. I think I’d like to see them again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to also say thank you for waiting. I didn't think I'd make it back to this, but here we are. A lot has happened, both in the game and in my life, since starting this project. I hope this is worth the wait. 
> 
> Thanks to Neville's Gran, who I could not in good conscious disobey.
> 
> As usual, thanks to Blindvogel, who has been both amazingly supportive and super effective in keeping me from burning this project to the ground.


	7. The Gunslinger Bites the Bullet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is no telling what an inventor will get up to when given a sinister idea, too much guilt, and far too much time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going through and realized I'd finished this chapter ages ago. So, better late than never, the next to last chapter. Thanks for sticking with us. Have I mentioned how awesome my beta Blindvogel is? Because she's lovely.

**Bite the bullet**

( _ Phrase _ )

     1.  To make a difficult choice

2\. To live with a difficult decision

3\. To expire, to die; (he finally bit the bullet)

**Gunslinger**

_(Noun)_

1. The man with the bullet

**The Gunslinger Bites the Bullet**

 

Time heals all wounds, but scars don’t heal when you pick at them. And with every forged arrow, he picks and picks and picks. All four of his workshop walls become dedication to these scars, recognition that he deserved much worse. There are more than a hundred explosive arrows waiting to be used by an archer that might never return, and sometimes he gets distracted watching the sparks of his forge fly up near them, waiting impassively to see which of them would ignite.

When none of them explode, he sighs and goes back to work.

He’s almost a little relieved when the nightmares start. They’re like old friends, come to keep him company in the quiet hours, the way his real friends used to, back when they were all a family. The nightmares aren’t like his old ones, where there were whispers and smoke and darkness, a vague sense of unease that made it hard to breathe. No, these nightmares were more like twisted memories of happier days, now more a cruel taunt than anything.

Sometimes, Vex is there, and sometimes she isn’t. Sometimes it’s the Raven Queen, and he’s back in Whitestone, and he’s begging her to bring Vex back. Sometimes in the nightmares, he rejects her offer, and other times, he accepts. He doesn’t know which is worse. (But he knows which one is true.)

Keyleth comes down to his workshop in tears, shaking, wobbly, a crinkled paper in her fist. She shoves it in his hands, pointing without being able to speak, her voice screeching out in hisses and wisps to the point that he cannot understand.

He smooths the paper out, and written in odd script- and, more notably, in  _ blood _ -

**_For the love of_ ** _ god _ **_, come and stop us._ **

 

Accompanying the message are two symbols he recognizes: The Slayer’s Take symbol, and a small symbol he’s seen on Zahra’s staff, something small that only a few people would know to scribble.

Kashaw Vesh had sent this message.

* * *

 

They arrive too late to save the town. They have long since stopped being effective heroes, and it shows. But the town is of little consequence in the grand scheme of things, because they find what they’re looking for in, of all places, a tavern.

She’s sitting at a table, legs crossed and relaxed, drinking out of a stolen cup. Her guardian stands beside her, his back to the door, a spear held like a walking stick against the sticky tavern floor. Percy steps over a body at the door, someone who tried to escape, and had almost made it out the door. Or had they been running in to hide?

“Thirsty, Percy?” She hums to herself, like she was laughing at her joke. “Rhymes in mortal tongues are too easily made. You should really try Primordial, if you’re interested in a challenge.”

Her voice draws him up short. He’d been expecting it, of course, but actually hearing her, after two and a half years of trying to remember what she sounded like, wasn’t easy. Especially since it sounded so much like her, so much like the old Vex.

She holds up a small wooden thimble between her thumb and index finger, offering it to him with a playful wiggle of her hand.

“There’s plenty of room to sit.” She says, gesturing with the thimble to her table. When a devil offers you a drink, he supposes the proper thing to do is take it.

She reaches over and places the shot at the seat next to her, and her bodyguard gives an annoyed huff and shifts to the other side of her. As he turns, Percy gets a good look at him. He’s thin, scarred, and his hair has grown quite long, though it’s not been well kept. Kashaw looks terrible.

“Be a dear and pull that rabble away.”

Kashaw drags the body out of the chair and pulls it out, making room for Percival to sit. He can’t see what had killed the man, but his face had been frozen in horror, whatever had been in his last moments must have been truly terrible. Percival suspected he was drinking what was left of his alcohol.

He sits down, and gets his first look at what is left of Vex.

Aside from her eyes being completely red, not much had really changed. At least, not anything that was immediately visible. She lets him stare for a few moments, wearing the pleased smile that he so sorely missed.

“I must admit I’m almost surprised to see you here.”  She says, taking another drink, “Except Kashaw is terrible at keeping secrets. You took longer than we thought you would. I got bored.”

His eyes flicker to the door, waiting for his group to come searching for him.

“They’re a bit busy, at the moment.” She says, “We have time to talk, darling.”

He chokes on the endearment, and he sees the corner of her mouth twitch up. She’s playing him, he realizes with a start, and nothing has been on accident. Not the town, not the bar, not the seat. Their knees touch as she crosses and uncrosses her legs.

“You don’t look amused.”

“Perhaps because I am not.” He answers, just as nonchalant as he can manage. Which, given his penchant for bullshit, was rather blasé.

She rolls her eyes, “If you’re going to get smart, at least have something clever to say.”

“Very well,” he leans forward, “I know how to kill you.”

He feels more than sees Kashaw tense behind him, but all she does is smile, unconcerned with his statement.

“I love when mortals think they have it all figured out. It’s hilarious.” She lifts a bottle to him, offering to refill his drink. He makes no motion either way, so she shrugs and fills her own glass. Can devils get drunk?

“What are you waiting for, then?”

Percy lets out a sigh, “I was hoping you’d agree to leave, in exchange for your life.”

She gives a laugh, and this time, it is Vesh who laughs. What had been perfectly Vex’s voice now split into dual tones, one of which was low and gravely, and the other faded into nothingness. The pretense was ended, it seemed, and now she was talking seriously. Her posture drops from its familiar stance and widens, as if Vex’s body just wasn’t taking up enough space for what was inside.

“I see why she liked you. I wonder if she’d like how long your hair’s gotten.”

“Where is she?” Percy wonders, eyes still checking the door. Two minutes now, and they still weren’t here. Exactly what did Vesh have them fighting?

Vesh sighs and taps her fingers on the table, “I’m getting bored again.”

Kashaw scrapes his spear against the ground, more a reminder that he was there than anything. Percy turns to him, and he can’t make out the cleric’s face. Was he hopeful, angry, or just…bored? It was hard to judge a man by vacant expressions.

“You should try the bread here. It wasn’t awful.” Vesh says as she rises, and Percival rises with her, drawing his weapon. When his pistol, Penance, lays against her chest, she sighs, and her voice splits back into two- Vex and Vesh, both speaking, “You think that’s going to do it?”

Percival’s finger curls around the trigger, a bit of sweat on his temple. Vesh/Vex presses against the barrel of his gun, moving closer until they’re almost breathing the same air, and he isn’t sure if he imagines her hands on him or not. She whispers when she speaks, and it reminds him of Vex’s careful warnings in the past,  _ Don’t step there, Percy _ .

“Shooting me means killing your friend, but by all means, fire away.”

She’s gone before the hammer of Penance lands. The bullet lodges in the wall behind where she had been. Vex and Kashaw are gone again, and Percy is alone once more. He sits back down at the table and cries in frustration.

* * *

 

Summoning a god is actually rather easy, when the god  _ wants _ to talk to you. They can be downright accommodating, when the mood strikes them. Especially when they want something from you.

The Raven Queen, cryptic bird that she was, had one job: the natural order. Which sounded like a bigger concept than it was, really. Things that lived needed to die, and that was how it went. Divine magic aside, of course, she was specifically against necromancy and things that defied the natural way of things; see, devils that can’t be killed by mere mortal means.

She doesn’t really go in for bartering for your dearest friend and love’s life, but She can be flexible. (Again, when it suits her because she wants something.)

And what, pray tell, do gods want?

Boots on the ground, that’s what. They want bodies in churches, souls on missions, mouths in prayer. They need acolytes and clerics and paladins and, in the Raven Queen’s specific case, champions. In the plural.

Except when your tomb is faulty and corrupted, and you end up killing one and completely passing over the second, things don’t go as planned.

So what’s the goddess of death to do? You can’t exactly force anyone into Her particular line of work, so She goes to strike a deal. Deals take time to negotiate, which is normally fine.

Except, when mortals panic and start calling to ancient evils to try and restore life to an empty body, who then walk away with said bodies.

So, what’s a goddess to do,  _ then _ ?

Apparently, the answer is offer the second champion a choice: serve and rid the world of a great evil, or don’t, and carry on as normal.

When he asks whether or not service meant that Vex would return, She didn’t answer. She handed him a small metal thing, engraved with runes beyond his comprehension, and said it would remove the stain from her chosen champion’s body. (Again, no mention of whether or not this would bring her back, Percy told her. She just shrugged, as if She wasn’t some celestial being and they were having a normal conversation.)

She doesn’t say what he’s supposed to do with it. He knows, though, what a bullet looks like. But it didn’t fit in any of his current weapons, which meant building something. Which meant time, and he didn’t want to wait.

He needed Vex back  _ now _ .

She refused, and that’s when he started firing.

* * *

 

When they ask him what happened, he lies.

Despite the years between them, they believe him.

* * *

 

The nightmares change after he meets Vesh, to things more primal and carnal, gore and otherwise. He wakes with a start nearly every night, Vex’s name trapped just beneath his lips, held back by sheer will alone.

He doesn’t understand them, they don’t make any sense at all. Sometimes her skin is soft and plying and she winks, sometimes it is feathers that prick at his fingers as she shifts, other times his hands come away crimson and she is still.

She never speaks, and he’s grateful. He doesn’t know that he could survive anything she might have to say.

He finishes the modifications to Penance so that the Raven Queen’s bullet can be fired.

On days when he thinks of pulling the trigger, he remembers what she sounded like when she hit the stone.

* * *

 

It’s when he gets a personalized letter that he begins to  _ truly _ plan to kill Vesh. She writes to him and the handwriting is familiar enough that it hurts to read. She writes to him, not gloating directly, but teasing. She writes to him, and it starts    
_ Percy, _

She writes, and she recounts moments between him and Vex that he had tried to forget. Warm moments, comfortable ones. Things she had no business knowing or talking about. But she did, and that was the last straw. Vex was gone, and he would not stand to have her memories tainted in such a way. He hated that anything that had once belonged to her was being rifled through like loot in a locked box.

She deserved more.

So when the letter ends with an invitation, he packs his bags.

When they ask where he’s going, he lies.

* * *

 

He doesn’t know if it’s unfortunate or not, but they don’t believe him. Pike gives him a  _ look _ , so much like the one she’d given him the day Vex died, and suddenly he is in the mood to be honest, like magic. He sighs, and starts slowly.

The devil had asked him for a dance, and he’d packed his shoes.

Everyone looks between him and Vax, waiting to see who would break first.

“Are you going to kill her?” Vax’s arms are crossed over his chest, leaning into one hip. The posture was familiar, and usually accompanied by a mirror body, Vex leaning the other way, their hips subconsciously connecting.

Three things were going to happen, he explains:

  1. He was going to fight Vesh, and she would kill him.
  2. He was going to fight Vesh, and he would kill her, and Vex would not return, and he would kill himself.
  3. He was going to fight Vesh, and he would kill her, and Vex _would_ return, and then the two of them will come home, and he will let Vax kill him.



Keyleth and Pike seem horrified, but Percy feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest. He had been thinking about it for so long, saying it out loud felt like opening a cage door, and it was time to take his wings (well, the broom he’d willed to Vex in the event of his death) and fly, become a Raven, so to speak.

“But first I must stop off in Vasselheim, to speak with the Raven Queen.” He finishes, surprisingly glad to say so. This part he had thought was merely a formality, as She was the patroness to the destruction of Vesh, so telling Her to ready herself felt like courtesy. And it felt like something he needed to do.

“How long have you been in communication with that feathered b-“ Vax stops himself, “-with the Raven Queen?”

Percival shrugs, “Since She touched us in that tomb.”

* * *

 

She asks to meet in Byroden, of all places, Vex and Vax’s childhood home. A fitting place, he thinks, to lay Vex’s body to rest. It is poetic in a way that Vex would have found irritating, but Percival himself found rather appropriate. He wondered if they would bury him there, too.

It had once been a quaint town, and as Vax leads them down the deserted streets, Percival can imagine young Vex and Vax running through mud and chasing each other, playing hide and seek and probably not thieving yet. (But he somehow imagines Vax has always been a thief, but he also imagines that the small things the boy nicked here and there were politely ignored because of the way their bones stuck out, too poor to afford so much.)

There is no house where they used to live, Vax says, but he stands there for a moment, lost in some memory. Percival wonders which in particular claims this moment. His wonder is cut short by a voice behind them.

“Do you remember the woman who baked pies down the lane? She always used to give us little, oh, what did she call them?”

Vax doesn’t turn, “Pinches, she called them. Little pies to grow little inches.”

“The cherry ones were my favorite.”

“They were  _ Vex’s  _ favorite. I’d do a lot of extra work for those. Vex enjoyed them most of all, but mother couldn’t bake her way out of a flour sack, so the baker was the only one who made them.” Vax says, fingers twitching to his daggers. He catches Percival’s eye, and Percy nods. They had discussed the plan- Vax couldn’t watch her die a second time, so he was the distraction.

“She burned nearly everything she ever cooked. We thought food was  _ supposed _ to taste like that for nearly six years. Six  _ years _ , Vax, do you remember?”

He seals the bullet with a kiss while the two of them are talking.

Percival has been a man for fanfare his whole life, always enjoying the show, the grandeur of things. He needs the last word, needs the clever line, has always needed those. But he watches Vesh bend Vex’s tongue, listens to her sully Vex’s precious memories, and in his final moments, he realizes none of it had ever mattered.

“Goodbye, Vex.” He says, pulls the trigger, and Penance flashes.

It hits her in the heart, and she sighs, “Percy, Percy, Percy. I’d really expected better. These contraptions of yours are clever, and I like them, but-“

Her voice stops suddenly, as she looks down to the wound he’d inflicted. It hadn’t bled at first, but it started to- not blood, but ichor. Black, viscous goo begins to seep from her chest, and her hands scramble as it turns to grey smoke. (For a second, it reminds him of Orthax, and he recoils. But he swore to watch, and he will.)

“What is this?” Vesh asks, the guise of Vex’s voice forgotten in her panic.

Percival is shaking, “The Raven Queen has extended an invitation to the Shadowfell.”

When the smoke covers her body, they wait. Dark curls of air pour out of her mouth, her eyes, and he wonders if it had been this terrifying when he’d been possessed. It was certainly uncomfortable to watch. All of a sudden it stops, and Vex goes limp.

He watches her lay on the ground, déjà vu paralyzing him long enough that everyone else has time to reach her. (Except Zahra, who catches the deflating Kashaw, and pulls him into a full body hug he is too weak to reciprocate.)

Vax tangles her in his arms, and presses an ear to her chest. They all sit for a tense moment, praying to every god they knew the name of. Pike’s magic is flying out, white, radiant bands of light wraps around Vex’s body, but Percival can tell none of it sticks.

His fear is confirmed by Vax’s scream that he muffles into Vex’s bosom, and Percival looks for a spot on the ground that might be comfortable enough to die on.

* * *

 

He’s a coward, through and through, but his cowardice buys him enough time to see a miracle.

As Vax begins to carry her away, almost bridal style in his arms, the wind picks up, and a black light takes a human shape in front of the bereft twin, and Percival swears he knows it. It starts to sing in Celestial, and the language and words are so beautiful that Percy starts to cry.

It grabs for Vex, and try as he might, Vax is no match. Her body is lifted away from him, and taken, the figure singing all the while. The story it is telling is wonderful, it is the only thing he has paid direct attention to in two years.

“Please,  _ please _ don’t take her.” Vax babbles, “I can- I can  _ feel _ her she’s, she’s here-“

“Let her, Vax, for gods’ sake.” Percival cries out, “Let her go. She’s going to be fine.”

“Where’s she going?” Pike asked, “I only got  _ city _ out of that.”

“She’s bringing Vex home.” He says, though he doesn’t fully understand. The figure turns to him, and he swears it grins.

* * *

 

**Bring me something to wear, darling.**

 


	8. The Ranger Charts Stars and Finds Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Blindvogel, who rocks my socks. Like seriously, y'all, this would not have existed without her. Also...this is literally twenty pages long. I cried about eight times writing this. I'd say sorry but you're here, you knew what we were in for.

_If you are lost,_

_Beware the hit of the double daggers,_

_Ieryn will always bring you home._

_The elves had other, fancier names,_

_but she refused to learn them._

_The stories Elena told them meant more_

_When she was lost, she found her way_

_By looking up._

-A Story Vex never had to remember

 

**The Ranger Charts Stars and Finds Home**

 

“And if I do this, I will get to be with Vox Machina?”

 A bowed head, an offered hand, a deal accepted, two moments too late. A dark shadow rushes by, and Vex starts running - not entirely thinking about where or why she was running, just knowing she had to get there first - but she’s too slow, and she doesn’t make it. There’s a brief struggle, though the word struggle implies that Vex had a chicken’s chance in Tal’dorei to win.

 When the door seals shut, the Raven Queen sighs. Like, actually sighs.

 “Well, it looks like we have some work for you to do, Vex’ahlia.”

 Vex waits for instruction, for direction, but the Raven Queen just raises a hand as if to say _walk_. So, she steps, and she loses herself in the mist.

It’s hard to keep track of how long it has been, when there is no day and night cycle, where she does not tire or grow hungry, when there is no breeze to even suggest movement. (For fun, she tries to hold her breath and count, but she got to two hundred and six before she decided she no longer needed to breathe. Sweet.)

But eventually she spots a light, like a star in the sky. So she starts walking, and eventually the mist subsides. When she turns back, there is no mist, maybe never was. Gods this place was weird.

“Tiberius?”

He’s there, mumbling to himself, like it was any old day back in Greyskull Keep.

“Ah, Vex’ahlia, there you are. I seem to have gotten rather turned around.”

“What happened?” She wonders, looking him over. He seemed to be in perfect health - except for the fact that he was, well, here.

“That’s a rather interesting question, one I’ve been asking myself for sometime. You see, I was just in Draconia, leading the army and we were doing quite well I think. We were a mixed unit of mages and warriors, and-”

“Focus, Tiberius.How long have you been here?” If anyone could figure out time here, it’d be Tibs. But the question seems to make his eyes glaze over. So, no better idea than she did.

“Do you know the way? I’m quite tired of standing here. You’ve always been good with directions.”

She takes his arm, “C’mon, let’s...let’s talk for a while.”

And so they do, and she learns of his demise, though he talks about it in typical Tiberius fashion - which is to say, extendedly and in circles. She learns of the dragon, weeks ago - at least, maybe weeks ago, in their world. Shortly after the dragons hit, at any rate.

They talk for a while, before-

“Look, another light.” She tells him, and drags him towards it.

* * *

 

It’s Grog.

* * *

 “Oh, Vex, I thought you died.”

 “I think I did.”

 “Oh. You ain’t seen Pike, have you?”

 “No, just you and-”

 “Tiberius? Where’d you find him?”

 “Grog, what happened?”

 “You would not believe the fight I just had.”

* * *

 So they wander together, but only for a few steps before they reach the shore. Strange, it wasn’t a beach before, was it?

 The sea is beautiful, deep blues and purples, and it occurs to her that this is the first speck of color she’s seen here. Everything is saturated black - Vax would love it here - but not the water. A few blinks and she can even pick out little white lights inside.

 “I think that’s for you.” Vex says, somehow knowing she is right.

 “I don’t want to go in. We haven’t found Pike. I can’t leave her alone.” Grog groans, looking nervously at the water.

 “It’s safe in there, Grog. I promise to bring Pike here if I find her.”

 “But I-”

 “Here, Grog, I’ll go first. You can follow me in.” Tiberius offers, and something twists in Vex’s heart. They were dead, gods, they were really dead. Sure, she was dead, but she’d been promised a return, so long as she worked for it.

Tiberius kisses her forehead and she can’t cry. No tears in the Shadowfell, it seems, just like there was no real pain. It ached, but more like an echo of an ache than anything real. ‘

He takes a few steps, and she sees his shoulders relax.

“How’s it?” Grog is still standing back from the water’s edge.

Tiberius moves further in - up to his waist, “It’s...well it’s stupendous, Grog.”

Grog nudges her and whispers so that Tiberius can’t hear, “That’s good, innit?”

“Very.”

“It don’t mean stupid, right because-”

“It’s good,” Vex chokes, “ _You_ did good, you got it right.”

“Are you coming with us?”

“I’ve got to go find Pike.”

“Right. Okay.” Grog is looking for excuses, picking at his belt, toeing the sand. Tiberius has disappeared beneath the water’s surface.

“I bet there’s half naked merladies in there.”

Grog raises an eyebrow, “Yeah but which half?”

“Guess you’ll find out. I’ll be along shortly.”

“I don’t have me swim trunks.”

“Well. Only one thing to do then.” Vex smiles, and Grog laughs as he rips his belt and breeches off, and she thinks _that is the last time I will hear that laugh_.

And it is.

* * *

 She meets two young boys, and she isn’t sure why. They teach her Celestial, and she teaches them how to write their names. They pick dirt out from under their whittled nails while she practices conjugating.

The language they sing makes the air around her move, creates breezes and sunlight, and so she gets good at it fast.

There are moments where she thinks she hears her friends singing, too, but their light disappears before she can reach it.

She meets other people - other souls - and they all make their way to the beach.

The next light she finds is Kashaw, who seems just as surprised to see her as she is to see him.

He reels back from her, and she tries not to feel offended. People have different reactions to dying, she’s found, and he was no different. She sits next to him, patient in ways she has had to practice recently.

“Kash, what are you doing here?” She can hardly believe it, really, that he is here. She had thought his “wife” would have kept him safe. Had something happened? “I’m so sorry.”

“Knock it off, it’s unsettling.”  It almost makes her smile, because he was just as gruff as ever, but he’s dead, like so many others.

“Kash, do you know where you are?”

He doesn’t seem all that surprised not to know where he is, rather just annoyed. She recalls Keyleth gushing about him - about her first stolen kiss - and wonders how he managed to be both people at once: the compassionate healer and resident grumpy boy.

“Why don’t you tell me?”

She’s got a spiel ready, “This is the Shadowlands, Kashaw.”

“Vesh, this is-”

Ah, that would explain some things. Vesh was using her body, then. She could only imagine what kind of hell Kash had gone through.

“Not Vesh. It’s me.”

“Very funny.” Kashaw doesn’t seem like he thinks it’s funny at all.

“You died, Kashaw.” She’d had to convince people of this before, that they were actually dead, that this was the end of the line. (Or was it? What happened when she lead them to the Astral Sea, she could only guess. The Raven Queen wasn’t entirely forthcoming. In fact, she hadn’t seen Her at all since she’d died and been left here. But, still.)

“I’m not that lucky.”

Another pang in her heart. Gods, what had he been through?

If she could cry, she would. Poor man. “I’m sorry. But you’re here now. I know a shortcut.”

“Shortcut to where?”

She starts to answer him but he is whisked away. She’s seen revivals before, and usually they’re full of light and she can feel the warmth from them - she’s seen them on the other side of things, too, and known them to be emotional ordeals. But what happened to Kashaw was not that.

It was a cold grip around his throat, and pulled away roughly and by a dark energy - the same one that had rushed by her right after she died. Vesh, Vex guessed, had come to collect him.

* * *

 

 

 Time passes, she thinks.

* * *

  Kashaw visits often enough that she grows to recognize his soul. She can get to his light even before he materializes, and is waiting for him. He’s starting to look different but she can’t tell if the change is physical or spiritual. But it gets worse over time.

 He leaves a fifth time, unable to reach the Sea, when the Raven Queen finally speaks to her. It’s a sudden thing, but not surprising, like Her voice was a familiar sound though they’d only had the one conversation.

 It’s time, she is told, to return. Her body was soon to be vacant, and it was time to return home. When Vex asks how long she’s been gone, the Raven Queen gives no answer. She decides gods are cryptic fucks and no wonder mortal lives were so hard. She wonders if Sarenrae treats Pike this way, too.

 When he comes back, Vex doesn’t have to guess. The shape he took was different, now, sickly thin and more scars than skin. God, what had his wife been doing? No time to worry, they have to run. She can make it, he can be released from whatever hell he had been living. He’d more than earned that.

 “You’re here again.” And she grabs his wrist and tries to run.

 But he pulls back - surprisingly hard for someone who looks as bad off as he does - and he sits down.

 “Is there a frequent-death stamp card I can get?”

 Maybe there was still some Kashaw left in him after all, “I don’t know, but I’ll ask.” When he doesn’t say anything she prods, “I didn’t know people could give up on dying.”

 “When you’re married to Death, I guess that’s all you can do.”

 She hates this place. She should be able to cry, to rage, to _feel_ something real, other than this not-grief, not-sorrow, _impression_ of a feeling she had been dealing with since hour one.

 “I’m sorry I wasn’t back fast enough.” Indescribably sorry, to so many people.

 She isn’t prepared for Kash’s _forgiveness_ of all things. When he gives it, she decides to join him on the ground. Right now, it feels like grass, and though she can’t smell it, she remembers what fresh air felt like. The thought is distracted by Kashaw’s extremely obvious cringe- ah, right, they looked the same. Understandable, but regrettable.

 “It’s good that you’re still fighting,” she tells him. It must be true, elsewise he’d have completely caved. “I need to ask you for something. It’s important.”

 This could save them both. Or, save what was left of the both of them. There’d be a lot of uncomfortable recovery after this, though certainly in different ways.

 His laugh sounds like it hasn’t been aired in a while, dry like wine she and Vax used to steal from their father’s reserves. But, still a good sign.

 “That’s new. What can I help you with today?”

 So she explains. If he could get a letter to her family, to Vox Machina, they’d be saved. The Raven Queen said that one of them had a weapon to destroy Vesh. (She’d be willing to bet it was Percival. He was the cleverest of men, and if anyone could figure out how to kill a god, it would be him. Gods she missed him.)

 She sees the black of Vesh’s magic wrapping itself around him, and while he doesn’t seem to see it, it looks like he _feels_ it. He rubs at his feet where the magic held tight, slithering up his legs like a venomous snake. She wondered if coming back to life meant feeling things again. She can’t imagine what he’s feeling is pleasant. What would she feel, when she came back?

 “Good luck.” She tells him, and means it.

* * *

Every now and again, she finds herself pacing impatiently, as if time had had any bearing on this plane. But waiting had always been so much easier when she knew the plan, when she knew the cue to spring into action. _Jenga_.

But no such warning comes.

For the first time in what feels like an eon, she _feels_.

* * *

 She feels pain, soreness, heat. Her chest feels deflated, like something big is sitting on her and she can’t catch her breath. Her limbs feel heavy, and standing becomes impossible. She falls to the ground, and the mist overtakes her.

It’s hard to explain what she sees. It’s Vax, she thinks, but she also sees herself in his arms. Their hair is shorter, cut but grown out some. What was she even wearing? Vesh must have had terrible, terrible fashion sense. It doesn’t compliment her figure at all.

She turns to see the Raven Queen approach her brother. “Go ahead, Vex’ahlia. I will take you to the temple. Your family will meet us there.”

She watches the Raven Queen wrest her body from Vax’s arms. He looked horrible, but she couldn’t imagine what he’s been through. He tries to plead with the Raven Queen, though Vex gets the impression that he doesn’t know who he’s talking to.

She looks to the rest of Vox Machina. They look tired, bone weary. Keyleth has more tattoos, Pike has more scars, Scanlan’s hands look...bad. Percy’s grown his hair out, quite a bit. It looks whiter than she remembered. She wonders if it’s still as soft-

Where is Trinket?

She looks at Percy, wants to ask, but she can feel herself being pulled away. She sings in Celestial, “Bring me some clothes, darling.” 

* * *

The next thing she feels - like she’s drowning. She pulls herself up, though how she knows it’s up, she couldn’t guess. Natural instinct, perhaps, or a really good sense of direction. She’s swimming, eyes shut, not through water. It was too thick, stuck to her skin in all the wrong ways. Not mud, not swamp water. She is afraid.

Finally, her head breaks clear and she takes a huge, desperate breath. The air smells like iron, like- like blood. Gross, that’s fucking gross. Who just keeps a literal pool of blood handy?

She tries to scrape her eyes clean enough to open, which isn’t easy. She pretends like she can’t see the dark maroon she’s swimming in, and makes her way to the edge. Waiting for her there are several robed and hooded attendants- servants of the Queen.

They offer her clothes, ask her if she’s hungry.

“Is Vox Machina here?” She asks, waving their concern away. There were more important things.

The priests, or whatever their titles were, look at one another, questions in their posture. When no one says anything, she nods. They’re still on their way then.

“I’m in Vasselheim, right?”

“That is correct, Champion.”

“Great. I’ll take those clothes, and if there’s somewhere for me to rinse off before I go outside, that would be marvelous.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I have friends in Vasselheim. I need a place to sleep, I’m quite tired, and I don’t have to pay for a bed there.”

One of them opens their arm to the door, “We have a place prepared for you, Champion. We were told to-”

“Listen, I’ve been working non-stop for...a while, alright? I need a break. Just one night, to myself. I’ll pick it back up in the morning.”

The door swings open, a smaller, not as mysteriously dressed acolyte, “We have...a visitor, who is demanding-”

The acolyte is shoved aside, and Vax is there. He looks a little more put together than...however long it had been. She suspects not more than a day.

Her eyes water instantly. She isn’t prepared for this moment, at all. Hadn’t really had time to come to grips with being alive again. But, Vax was always doing things without waiting, without taking time to consider things.

“ _Stubby_ ,” he chokes. She sees him try to take a step, but his legs wobble, so she moves to catch him. Once he’s righted, he pulls her into a full body hug. She feels his cheek squish into her hair, and she wishes he’d waited ten minutes so she could, maybe, not do this while covered head to toe in blood.

“Hey.” She says, because she doesn’t know what else to say, “Long time, no see.”

She hears him sob, and, blood be damned, she wraps her arms and crushes him right back. She takes a second to rub his back, as he shakes and trembles. Oh, poor Vax, this must have been so hard.

“Hey, not to, ruin a moment. But. I’m naked. And covered in blood.”

“Gross.” Vax says, but doesn’t loosen his grip.

“Totally.”

“I may have beat everyone else here. Magic boots ‘n all. Think you can clean up quick?”

She turns her head to look at the priests, one eyebrow raised.

“There’s a bath in the temple. I’ll show you the way, Champion.”

Vax rips off his cloak- one she hadn’t seen before, blue and starry, like the night’s sky-and puts it over her shoulders. She tries to shove it off- “It’ll get dirty!”- but Vax just stubbornly pulls it back on.

Vax follows her into the bath chamber, but does so backwards. _Now_ it bothered him.

“You’re not going to get in there with me, right?” Vex asks as she pulls the cloak off. It didn’t seem to have been stained. Magical, then, and not just because it was pretty.

“Uh, _no_ , the last time we shared a bath was when we were four, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Okay. Don’t leave.”

“Not for the world, Vex.”

* * *

She steps down into the water, and the heat is _blissful_. She hadn’t realized how fucking cold she was, all of her bits exposed and soaked. She can feel each individual toe, the tips of her fingers. Her ears wiggle in contentment. The bath water turns a pale red as she goes further in.

They don’t speak for a while, as Vex scrubs her skin clean. She can hear Vax sniffling, and she cries a little, too. But they let each other mourn. When she can’t take the silence anymore, she says, “How long?”

After a beat, “Almost three years.”

Gods.

“And the dragons?”

“You’ll be happy to know, the money we made from selling their remains funded a new and improved Greyskull Keep. And a new shop for Gil. And a new library for Emon, for Westrun, and for Whitestone.”

Whitestone. Percy’s home. She remembers it was cold, and remembers the feel of Percy’s hand in hers, of pressing Percy against the wall (Scanlan’s voice in the back of her head, inexplicably, saying _kiss him_ ), of holding him as they threw his guns into the acid.

“I saw Grog. And Tiberius.”

At that, he turns his head to look at her, “What?”

“While I was...away, I was helping souls crossover, I think. To wherever’s next. I found Grog and Tiberius.”

New tears down his face, “Grog died four days after…”

“After I did.” Vex finishes, “It felt like it had been months by then.”

“Vex I-”

“If it’s all the same, I’d rather not. It’s late, and I’m tired. Also starving. And sore?”

“Sorry, Vex, that’s not the best way to come back.”

“It’s better than what I had.” She says, and that ends the conversation.

* * *

She grabs the clothes they left for her and, “Oh, look, a cheery shade of black. And what’s this? Black pants! Oh, and how could I forget,” she says, waving the dark socks in the air, “That my feet also need to be smothered in black. I think they must have mistaken me for you.”

He gives one almost bitter laugh, “I hear it’s the Raven Queen’s favorite color.”

“Yeah, well, it’s me in this body, not some god. We’re going to have to find me some appropriate clothes.”

“Percy brought some.” Vax tells her, “He’s...not been well, either. None of us have been.”

She grabs a wet washcloth and scrubs at his cheek, where he’d been laying against her hair and the blood had dried brown and craked, “Percy was never quite well, nor were any of us. That’s what made them all family. We’re all a little bit fucked up, but we make it work.”

Vax’s eyes close slowly, “I have missed you, Vex’ahlia.”

“Do you remember what you told me, back at the Keep, just as we were leaving?”

He thinks for a moment, “To never go far from me, that if you were out of my sight that was too far away.”

“I’m sorry for not listening.”

* * *

The rest of Vox Machina catches up, the twins meet them at the door, arm in arm, hip to hip. There are a lot of tears all around, until Vex can’t cry anymore. Then they get something to eat, and find a few extra tears.

Percy stares the whole time, barely blinking, like he was afraid she would just disappear if he looked away too long. Maybe he was. But he hardly said a word. He was waiting for a chance to speak to her alone, she knew. Because when he had something important to say, that’s what he did. Wait, and wait, and wait.

She is happy to let him stare. She missed him, too.

* * *

A week later finds them (most of them, anyways, Percy says he has to return to Whitestone, which he is allowed to do after a very serious look and cryptic warning from Vax. He leaves without saying goodbye to her.) back in Greyskull Keep 2.0. It’s nearly doubled in size, and certainly stocked with finer things. Vox Machina had really come up in the world. She comments to Scanlan about how they certainly paid too much for everything. He responded with a nonchalant, “Well our treasurer was missing, so we did the best we could.” that sounds like a joke, but she can tell it isn’t. She hugs him so tight that she ends up picking him off the ground.

“I’m here.” She tells him. She knows it’s bad when he doesn’t make some crack about her being late, when he doesn’t take the opportunity to cop a feel or hit on her. She squeezes him extra tight and puts him back down.

* * *

Keyleth, she finds out in the garden. It had been quite extended, full of plants even Vex didn’t know the names of. Keyleth explains that she had taken up herbalism, brewing potions and giving most of them away to people who needed them. She’s grinding something with a mortar and pestle, and though Vex doesn’t know what it is, it certainly smelled medicinal.

“So, I have to ask. It’s been three years. Are you and Vax, still…?”

Keyleth squeaks, and _breaks_ the mortar. Gods when had she ever been so strong? A green glow from her hands, and the stone is perfectly shaped again.

“After you...went away, Vex, we… we kind of lost our way. Not just Vax and me, but...Vox Machina. It felt like you were the glue holding everything together, and...without you, everything else became background noise.”

“I’m sorry.” Vex says solemnly. She had just been coming around to the idea of them as an item, too, before she died.

“It’s...it’s okay. We still love each other, you know, and it’s not like that ever stopped. There was just something more important.”

“Keyleth, love is important, too.”

“I know.” Keyleth replies, sounding more sure and confident than Vex had ever heard her, “And that’s why we were looking so hard for you.”

* * *

She meets Pike in the training room. The inscription carved in the stone above the door said, “ _For Strongjaw_.”

She tells Pike about Grog’s final moments, how he had been so happy. She recounts their walk, and how he was so worried about Pike that he almost didn’t go- but Vex had promised him that Pike would be along shortly, and _may_ have implied that there were slutty mermaids in the water.

Pike sobs, and thanks Vex for sharing. Pike climbs into her lap, and Vex brings her arms and knees up around her. Gnomes were tiny, but Pike had never felt so small up until that moment. Pike had lost a sibling, too, and didn’t even get to say goodbye.

“I missed you both so much,” Pike says, “Some days it felt like I couldn’t even breathe.”

“He’ll be there waiting for you, when it’s time. Until then, let’s do him proud and keep wrecking evil’s shit, yeah?”

Pike swipes a hand under her nose, “Yeah.” 

* * *

The contingent of Vox Machina takes a trip to Whitestone in the second week. The Sun Tree was thriving, branches extending full of leaves. Much more inviting than the first time she’d seen it.

They are greeted by Cassandra, who has grown a lot in the past three years. She looked healthier, more sturdy. She leads them in, but says Percival is indisposed. Vex thinks about arguing, but doesn’t. Right now, they’re here for Grog.

His memorial stone is blank.

“I knew him nearly our whole lives. And I didn’t teach him to write his name. I didn’t make him learn, and now I’ll never…” Pike’s voice drifts off, hand going up and touching the stone.

Vex pulls a piece of charcoal out of her bag, “He couldn’t write, but he knew how to get his message across. May I?”

Pike hesitates, but then nods.

Vex takes her time, goes slow. She’s nowhere near as artistically gifted as Percival, but she’s not terrible. She draws the last image of him, bare-assed, cannonballing into the Astral Sea. He had turned back to look at her, just before he hit the water. Gods she missed him.

“Why is he naked?”

Vex gives a shaky laugh, “He didn’t have any swim trunks, he said.”

“He looks...happy.” Pike’s voice is more a rasp. If her throat was as tight as Vex’s was, she was surprised she’d managed that.

“He was laughing. I think he understood what was happening, on some level. He was scared to go in, but Tiberius had just gone before him. I think, more than anything, he was tired of being afraid. He let go, and he laughed.”

Vex turns because she feels eyes on the back of her neck. It doesn’t take her long to spot the culprit, who disappears into the shadows, leaving nothing more than glinting rings of metal and glass.

* * *

 The fifth day in Whitestone, Vex finally confronts her brother.

“Listen. We’re safe here, and you look exhausted. Get some sleep. I bet Key has a potion that might help, or some tea or something.”

She sees him set his jaw and shoulders, readying himself for an argument.

“I know it’s only been three weeks, but how long are you going to keep this up? I missed you, most of all, and I’m glad to be with you again. But I need you to take care of yourself.”

“I meant what I said-”

“Vax’ildan, kindly shut the fuck up. These new earrings you had commissioned go up to a mile. I am in range, no matter where we go in this castle. Now, go, sleep. I have some things to take care of.”

“Make yourself one of those things, please. You haven’t really talked about what you went through and-”

“Talk to Keyleth, and you have a deal.”

She holds her hand out, and after a few moments, he takes it. The tension falls out of his shoulders.

“I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t.” She promises, “Enjoy your rest.” 

* * *

Kashaw and Zahra had sent two letters, one to Whitestone and one to Greyskull Keep. The letter is addressed to her, of all people. She pretends like her hands aren’t shaking as she pulls at the wax seal.

_Vex,_

_I don’t think I ever said thank you, for what you tried to do. So thanks. Let’s not do it again. I’d buy you a drink, but being a prisoner for three years tends to leave you poor. When I’m strong enough, Z and I are going to Take some contracts, build our stockpile back up. If you’re ever back in Vasselheim, you know where to find me. -Kashaw H._

And, on the other side of the paper, in neat script,

_Vex’ahlia, darling._

 K _ash has told me about what you did for him- that you’re responsible for saving him. There aren’t enough words in any language I know to say thank you for that. He’s very precious to me._

  _(So are you, dear, I’m glad you’re back, too. I know Kash invited you for a drink, and what I’m about to ask may sound heartless. Don’t come here. Even though he says he wants to see you, I’m worried that he’ll only see Vesh. So don’t come. At least not for a few years. I’m sorry to ask it of you, but I need Kash to get better.)_

_Love and eternal gratitude._

_Your friend, Zarha Hydris._

 

And Vex understands, pens a letter to Zahra, and seals it.

  _Anything for you and Kash. Let me know when, if ever, we’re clear to meet again, I have ._

* * *

 She practices shooting again. That bitch had not only cut her hair, but she hadn’t kept Vex’s muscles working. It felt like starting over, like she was eleven and straining to make the bow bend even a little. Her muscles remembered, but they were too weak to follow through.

At night, she works her arms until she can’t anymore. They’ve been here for a week, and she still hasn’t cornered Percy yet. She makes the decision to do it tomorrow, to lock them in his workshop, or his room, or wherever he was, and stand in the doorway so he couldn’t escape.

No sooner does she make the decision than he appears before her.

“The weather is much nicer in the spring, isn’t it?”

She nods, and stops mid-push up to roll over and sit down. She looks at the stars, and they remind her of the Astral Sea, though these weren’t half as vibrant.

“It’s downright pleasant.”

A long, silent pause. She hears insects chirping, wind blowing through the grass. It smells like rain.

“This is for you.” He says, pulling a...broom from his other side.

“If you’re saying I have to clean my room to stay here, we’re going to have a serious prob-”

“It flies.”

“What, really?”

“Really.”

She takes it out of his hands and kisses his cheek. She tries not to be offended that he flinches.

“I have something else of yours.” He says, pulling something over his head.

He presses a necklace into her hand, a heavy purple stone set in the center. It looks familiar, though she couldn’t say how.

“That’s not mine.”

“It was in the tomb that killed you.”

“ _Percy_ -” she starts, wounded by the guilt in his voice.

He cuts her off, “It was my fault. I’ve done a lot of bad things, Vex, but...that was the worst thing I’ll ever do.”

“It wasn’t an accident that you caused, darling. It wasn’t a trap that wouldn’t have gone off if we’d checked. That was the will of the Raven Queen, and it’s okay.”

“ _IT’S NOT OKAY_.” He yells, shocking them both. He clears his throat, “It should have been me. It would have been better if-”

“Stop.”

 He’s never refused her anything, and so he falls silent.

 “You know it’s great when you give me stuff, but you could stand to space them out. What is it?”

 “A trinket, I suppose.”

 The word stings. It burns and claws at her ribs, “No one can tell me what happened to him.”

 “They don’t know. After you died, he refused to leave.”

 Ah, look, it’s raining already. Oh, no, she was just crying again. Percy doesn't comment on it, though she still tries to hide it. It's dark enough he may not have even seen it.

 “That’s my good boy. Though he ought to have gone with his uncle.” But her

 “That necklace is magic. Activate it.”

 She gives him a skeptical look. But, his presents had never let her down before. She concentrates, feels the magic he was talking about, and for a brief second, she feels the Raven Queen’s eye upon her. Then there’s a brilliant white flash, like lightning.

 And there, turned the other way, is a big brown bear.

 She grabs for Percy’s arm, hand clenching around him in excitement and hope, “Trinket? Is that you, buddy?”

 “I went back for him a few days after we left him. Once I figured out what the necklace did… It only seemed right. I didn’t know how long it was going to take to find you.”

 Vex barely hears him, “Trinket?”

 He turns around with a roar, and charges.

 If it had been any other bear, she’d have been worried. But it’s Trinket. He knocks her over, nearly plopping his entire weight on her, and licks her face until there is no dry spot left.

 She rubs his face, his ears, anywhere she can reach. Eventually, he steps back to let her up. He nudges her hand up over his head, a request for more pets.

 He whines, and she nods.

 “I missed you, too. I love you so much.”

 Trinket makes a lot of noise, and she almost misses Percy getting up to leave.

 “Hey! I’m not through with you. Sit back down.” She says, sounding a lot less intimidating because she can’t stop smiling.

 Percy doesn’t sit, but he turns to her, “I do have a lot to do and-”

 “Tell me why you’re avoiding me.”

 He stiffens, and looks like he’s about to refuse to answer, but instead he falls to his knees in front of her, taking her face in his hands, and he kisses her once, twice, before she grabs the collar of his coat. They’d kissed before, but not like this. This was...this was new.

Percy pulls back, not far enough that he breaks her hold on him-his forehead rests on hers- but enough to catch his breath and whisper, “I’ve been avoiding you because I couldn’t stop thinking about doing that. And I don’t deserve to- to be around you, much less kiss you.”

Vex shakes her head, “And what about me?”

“What?”

“Do I deserve your absence? After all this, I think I’m a little entitled to your time. Maybe even a lot of it.”

He doesn’t answer. She can feel his breathing start to shake. She’s been crying enough that she knows what’s happening.

“Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski De Rolo the Third.”

His eyes open and meet hers, glittering blue in the moonlight, “Yes?”

“I don’t care what you think you deserve. It’s wrong, but you can believe what you like. I’ll spend the rest of our lives convincing you otherwise. But don’t you dare think it’s okay to just disappear.”

He looks down, “I…”

“If the next sentence out of your mouth isn’t some form of “Yes Vex” I’ll have Trinket sit on you.”

He laughs, then, small but true, “I would hate to disappoint you any more than I already have. What would you have of me?”

“First, I have something to give you, too. Two things: The first is my forgiveness. If I ever held you responsible for what happened, I take it back.”

“And the second?”

“I’ve had a lot of time to reflect. On a lot of things. And, I...I should have told you, a long time ago.”

He takes in a shallow breath, like he’s afraid to break this moment by taking a deeper one.

“I love you.” She says simply, “I love you and I need you. So please stop running.”

He shifts to kiss her again, softer this time, lighter. The second kiss is deeper, and when her fingers card through his hair, he shivers.

“I’d like for you to say something, now. Kissing is good but-”

“Yes, Vex.” He murmurs against her lips, “Anytime, anywhere, and whatever you need me to be.”

“There’s my good boy.”

“Ugh, _gross_. I came to tell you to go to bed, and now I have to go throw up.”

She laughs, makes a rude hand gesture towards Vax, and lets Percy pull away. She isn’t sure what to make of his face. He seems, maybe not nervous, but, apprehensive about Vax. Vex wonders what the last three years were like between them. She hadn’t asked, and neither had volunteered the information.

“You could have used your earring.” Vex tells him, flicking her hair back, “It’s not our fault you’re a peeping tom.”

“Don’t make me take you down, Stub- Trinket?”

“Percy had him in a necklace.” Vex explains proudly, taking Percy’s hand. He loops his long fingers around hers.

The bear rises up from where he’d been sitting, and barrels over to Vax. She doesn’t need magic to tell the bear is happy. Vax hugs him real tight, burying his face in Trinket’s fur.

“C’mon, buddy. We’ve got to show everyone you’re back. I bet auntie Pike has some-”

“Don’t feed him chocolate! It’s not-”

But they’re already walking away, Vax waving dismissively and Trinket happily growling Vax’s ear off. She’s seen it a thousand times, but she still watches them until they’re gone.

When they’re alone, Percy asks, “What do we do now?”

“I have some ideas.” She says, wriggling her eyebrows. She feels a little bit like Scanlan when she does, but it’s totally worth it.

It’s beautiful, the way he turns red.

“Right.” He says awkwardly, “I better not be dreaming again. I will be thoroughly put out.”

“Percival, did you have dirty dreams about me while I was gone?”

There’s a change in him, all of a sudden, and he leans in to whisper, “I had them before you left, too.”

Oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, guys. That's everyone! There's going to be one more chapter, of Things We Got To Say Instead. The constellation names at the beginning were taken from the Faerun setting. I'm sure Matt has his own detailed constellations, but, well, unfortunately I don't live in Matt's beautiful brain.
> 
> Thank you all for waiting, and for all the kind words. This has been hard to get out, to finish. It was one of the first things Blindvogel and I ever did together, and it's beautiful. It's taken me some time, but we're technically done folks.


End file.
